#i find it easier to do expressions on a sketch

[rockybloo]

Ive recently just started doing art, and i apologize in advance if you've gotten this question before frequently, do you have any tips for beginner artists and how did you find your art style? I'm constantly amazed by how you do anatomy and expressions, their so distinct and expressive!

Thank you!

And I actually don't get asked a lot of questions about myself when it comes to art. Many come to this account so I can put my OCs on the phone for questions, so this is lowkey a new question. I might have been asked it before years ago but I am better at drawing now.

HOWEVER, I have to state that I am simply a hobbyist artist and not a freelancer or professional so my tips will be kinda off brand compared to their word. ANYWAYS...

THINGS THAT I FIND HELPFUL FOR ARTING (besides practicing because I mean...we all know the only way to get better is to practice so it'd be kinda redundant say it - we all know to do it)

Practice drawing in pen. Pen can't be erased. So instead of sketching and erasing and sketching and erasing, it is nonstop sketching. It helped me a lot with speeding up my sketching, even in digital, because I got used to making little goofy mistakes. It also helps to fight perfectionism

Use references. I know that's just as redundant as saying to practice but references are genuinely underrated. Whether they be colors or poses - references are your friend. I use them whenever I am having a hard time drawing something.

Redraw things. I occasionally redraw memes or scenes from animated movies with my OCs. It's stranger really helpful, especially if there is a certain expression in the original image because it lets you play around with how to draw it to catch the correct vibes. PLUS redrawing funny stuff helps take the stress off creating art because it reminds you not every drawing has to be amazing.

Don't neglect your body when you draw. STOP DRAWING WHEN YOU ARE HUNGRY, THIRSTY, OR NEED THE BATHROOM! THE DRAWING CAN WAIT - YOU WILL HAVE A MUCH EASIER TIME CREATING ART WHEN YOU ARE NOT SUFFERING FROM THE HUMAN CONDITION.

Stretch your hands. Drawing puts strain on them and your fingers will ache and your hand may get stiff. Practically hand and finger stretches keeps your hands happy. I do them all the time just because I use my hands a lot for art AND my day job.

Numbers are the devil and the algorithm is a warlord. If you post your art online, it's easy to get into the mindset that you aren't good enough because you have low interactions on your work. THIS IS FALSE - NUMBERS DO NOT EQUAL QUALITY. It's better to draw for yourself and the enjoyment of art rather than drawing to attract a fanbase and attention

As for how I figured out my art style, what you all see is the result of me taking bits and pieces from things I like and blending it all together. An art style is really just figuring out what stuff you like from other people's styles and doing your own thing with it.

To break down some of my own style, the way I shade the underside of noses is something I got from Soul Eater since I loved how the anime marked noses with little dots.

The way I draw lips was a journey. I used to only line the top lip like how the manga for D Gray Man would. Then I saw how Steven Universe stylized fuller lips and sort of started playing with that. Over the course of me exploring - I found more online black artists and learned from how they shade and render lips.

Style is very much something that takes a long time to develop. I've been active online since 2011 and it took me until this year to finally figure out a style I really vibe with.

[tonguetiedraven]

I was doing some expression practicing (and trying out a different undercut style) and @patchworkhatsoul said it looked like Ryuuji had just seen how filthy Lewin's office was after an absence so that's what this became xD Will he recover from the emotional trauma of it? Who knows, but there are going to be some coal tars in need of a new home when he's finished cleaning it. (Lewin might be in need of a new home if Ryuuji doesn't let him back in the office.)

[lunarharp]

figured i'd do this again..bit early i guess..

[plutosoda]

how i make character models* in paint3d

*they are not models. you cannot rig them. but for simplicity i will call them this. also this guy is the example ⬇️

so. paint3d is very jank and not actually that good But it is fun to mess around with and for getting that early 2000s computer game effect for things. this program crashes and lags a lot especially when making more detailed stuff like this so. throughout this Please save your project periodically. I have lost so much to not doing this

if your computer isn't that great it's best to keep the quality setting at it's lowest. these models aren't really that detailed so it doesn't make a huge difference anyways LOL

when you open p3d you start with a blank 2d canvas. if you've Never used the program before i recommend fucking around with 3d view + making 3d shapes for a bit. make a Thing. like just some random object. it does not have to be good it's just to get used to how the controls work (because it is different between my mouse and drawing tablet and im not going into that here LOL). the biggest positive about p3d is how user intuitive it is compared to.yknow. blender when you're done with the Thing and u want to start with your character go back to the 2d canvas/2d view for sketching time

you could probably do this in another program but. i find it easier to just do it here. i keep these pretty simple and try to keep depth in mind

then go to canvas and make the background transparent. and then switch to 3d view to start making the base for the model on top of the sketch

at this point i don't use the 3d doodle shapes yet because they are finnicky as hell. the preset ones are a bit easier to control and move around so they're nicer for the planning part. what shapes you use depends on your character but my guy here is very circles and round so its just a sphere and some cylinders

make sure you're in 3d view and checking the pose from every angle ! if ur guy looks like a roblox avatar without the assets loaded fully then that is ideal. once you're happy with the pose it's Sculpting Time

where you choose to start is up to you but i usually get the head out of the way bc it tends to be the most complicated thing.

this is my best friend forever. the sharp edge is helpful for stuff like metal and whatnot though so i use them both.

for stuff like hair and fur i find its easier to make a bunch of small shapes and then connect them instead of trying to do it all in one go

^better examples with fluffier guys

this part is pretty much just personal preference for how you want your model to look though. just keep adding Stuff until it looks alright. also reminder to be saving your work bc this is when it gets really annoying if p3d crashes

finished head. jus keep addin stuff. copy and paste is a godsend btw.

puffier jacket. also connecting the limbs. just keep addin stuff.

these take a few hours .finished limbs. pretend the backpack is there i forgot to get a progress shot of it

now it is time for the objectively best part which is painting the guy. switch back to the 2d brush but stay in 3d view and start Coloring . i only really use the watercolor brush for shading/gradients and the marker one for lines but this part is also personal preference.

watercolor brush for the blue gradient and marker for the face .

i would Not do this in 2d art but i like adding a white gradient to pastel colors like with the hair here. it compliments the soft shapes well i think. to quote a friend it Looks Gummy

my silly highlights.

almost done with the creature. also mentioning that there are different textures for objects that you can change when picking their base color. the zipper is metal so it gets to be shinier.

theres also different lighting/filters to mess around with + you can doodle on the transparent canvas still.

save ur guy as a image and/or a turnaround gif/video/whatevar u want . and thas it! you can also mess with the model more for different poses and expressions (although this is super laggy bc it has to render a bunch of shapes at this point)

go make some CREACHURES !!

[meanbossart]

i just need to take a second to gush about how much i love durge drow and astarion, they feel so fleshed out and perfectly written together in their fucked up wretched ways. They really inspire me to write more for my own tavs, hopefully one day ill be able to say im as happy with my own work as i get when seeing yours. I have to ask though, do you have any tips on drawing head shapes and faces? or maybe about wrinkles? i find i really struggle with that stuff when drawing and i adore how expressive and grungey all your art looks!

First of all thank you so much, I love hearing what people think of the two of them together 😭

Honestly you've hit on something that's quite near and dear to my heart, I love developing and figuring how to draw and stylize different faces to get the most unique, interesting looking results - everything about the details is highly rewarding to me. What does x type of nose look like from this angle? In this style? How can this eyeshape best translate to my art? How different does a face look when its making this expression? What does that MOUTH DO? etc etc.

In fact you kind of inspired me to put a little tutorial/guide together the last hour lmao and what a blessing it is that the two current subjects of this blog serve as great models here, being that their faces are basically polar opposites!

When it comes to heads, you've probably heard it a dozen times before that you want to think of them in terms of geometry and facets; my process to drawing them is pretty conventional so I won't spend too much time on it, but it goes something like this:

Obviously I don't do every single one of these steps most of the time, which is just something that comes from practice/developing muscle memory, but it is helpful to start off this way for two main reasons:

By making these guide lines and splitting a head into pieces like this, you'll have an easier time seeing and understanding it as a multidimensional object, and in turn, facilitate It for you when you venture out into doing wacky angles and lighting.

Making different headshapes starts HERE. notice how Astarion's "face" slate is narrower and longer, how my durge's jaw pieces sit lower on the head, how all of the same pieces came together in the same way but we ended up with one real pointy elf and a real brick of a drow - making characters look different successfully begins very early in the sketching process.

The next thing you want to do branches out into every day life: start noticing yours and other people's facial features. How does an upturned nose look from a high angle? How does the size of someone's cheekbones affect what they look like when they smile? How about when the light hits them a certain way? Does someone's lip shape changes when they pout? When they laugh? How does a person's hairline change the shape of their face? You do NOT need to creepily sketch every stranger you see on the bus, but get into the habit of actually noticing what people look like when you talk to them - when you look at pictures, when you watch movies - make a mental list of interesting ways mouths, noses, and eyes can come together in a variety of different proportions to make completely distinct looking mugs, and how they change depending on how you are looking at them.

Light and shadow play a HUGE role in how faces look, too, basically as crucial as actual bone structure does. As you see up there I tried to rough out how natural, head on, and underhead light would look on these two very different looking guys, and while we can see definite patterns, there are small differences that come to be because of the sizes and shapes of their features.

Here is a very, very basic look at how some of these features come to look the way they do, how they interact with one another, and how they compare between a blocky, rather conventionally "masculine" head and one that's much softer and slimmer.

Note please that it is not one or two characteristics that give a chaarcter their "look"; you can reduce a face to eyes, mouth, and nose through stylization and still have them be recognizable, but if you want to do more than that, you have to consider the whole package! Chin, cheeks, brows, direction of the jaw, slope and size of the forehead, depth of eyes, ridge of the nose, etc - I know this is probably far more than you bargained for, but if you start making note of a FEW of these things now and slowly add on, this will eventually become second nature to you.

Similarly, understanding how these characteristics come together will help you with rendering light and shadow in a realistic way, and predicting what their facial expressions may look like - if no two people are alike, neither are their smiles. :)

Lastly, remember that I'm no expert - I have developed my own methods and semiotics and yours may look slightly (or vastly) different, and that's fine! I hope only that by sharing this it has given you a base to work off of.

Anyways, I HOPE this has been helpful and not just the unsolicited ramblings of a face pervert.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOUR: WAY DOWN WE GO

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SUMMARY ↳ You make some major moves, risky major moves. “Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.” You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away. “I’m just better.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (attempted) bullying, you get a sword held at your neck (wonder whose fault that is), cursing wc: 6.5k

The next school day goes by in a blur of lectures you don’t pay attention to. The only thing on your mind is patrol and the looming task of getting back home.

Lunch is a brief respite from the busyness of the day. You sit alone to better hear your thoughts. You’ve long gotten used to your super hearing, but it’s still as loud as ever. The lunch is pretty good today, yet no match for your increased metabolism. You’re just grateful that your suit protects you from a lot. Super healing isn’t that useful when you’ve got no energy to heal with.

Your pencil moves in repeated strokes, steady. You’ve been putting your sketchbook to good use.

You hear footsteps approaching, and raise your head casually. You can’t help but widen your eyes when you see Damian walking to you.

He puts his tray down and sits, perfect posture and all. His eyes scan your drawings. “What is it?”

You blink, looking down at your drawings too. “It’s a… personal project.” You give your best winning smile. “I like to make things.”

You subtly turn the page so the one with all the formulas and equations is hidden away, only allowing Damian to see the sketches of what your new and improved nanite chamber would look like. “You’re hurting my feelings. What can I do to gain your trust?” It’s no subtle attempt to direct his attention from your drawings.

“Unnecessary. Forget about yesterday, it is in the past,” Damian says. Yeah, right. It’s obvious he’s playing nice in an attempt to lower your guard, but whatever. You can play along.

You pat his shoulder, smiling at his grimace. “You’re really bad at making friends. Don’t worry about it, first impressions aren’t everything.”

You lean back, crossing your arms. “So, now that we’re friends, tell me about yourself.”

“We are not friends.”

“We’re not enemies either.”

“That does not equate to us being friends,” he growls.

“But don’t you wanna know about me?” You lean in close. “Y’know, ‘cause you’re–” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Robin?”

He shoves you away, somehow in a gentlemanly manner. “Do not joke about that.”

You cackle. “I will tell you something about me in exchange for something about you.” At his glare you say, “it’s the fair thing to do.”

“I’ll go first.” You sit up straight. “I work part-time at Carrie’s Cafe, I live in East End and I occasionally dabble in photography.” Where you work and live is something he no doubt knows already, and photography is a useless fact. Still, he can’t admit that.

You gesture at him. “Your turn.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he speaks. “I enjoy spending time with animals. I have various pets.”

“What kind of pets?”

“The rules of our deal do not require me to elaborate further.”

You roll your eyes. “The rules of conversation do.”

“I hardly want to converse with you.” God, you forgot how much of a brat Damian is. It’s easier to find it funny when you’re not the subject of his brat-ness. He can tell you’re getting a bit irked, if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

You survey your surroundings. People are looking at the two of you. You figure you must be a sight. The elusive heir of Bruce Wayne and the new kid. There’s a group of girls staring at you spitefully.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you speak to Damian, not taking your eyes off the girls. “Me, awesome mysterious super hot new kid, and you.” You don’t gas up Damian, but you figure he’s better off without a bigger ego.

Damian looks to where you're staring, his lips turning in thinly veiled disgust. “We are not a pair.” The girls giggle behind their hands and flutter their eyelashes at him. He looks away. You gasp as you are hit with an idea.

“I just had the best idea ever.” Pointedly ignoring his hum of doubt, you continue, “we are in the perfect set-up for a fake-dating situation. You, the popular bad boy who wants nothing to do with girls, and me, the one person who will never fall in love with you. We agree to fake-date to get the girls off your back, but we end up falling in love and we kiss in the rain–” you pause, staring at his face. It’s full of disgust, and you burst out laughing. “I’m afraid you’re too easy, my friend.”

Your hearing picks up on stomping from across the cafeteria. The leader of the girl's little posse is making her way over to you. She’s real pretty, you’ll give her that. She’s forgone the vest of her uniform to show off her slightly unbuttoned top. You’re not ashamed to admit you are looking hard .

“Damian!” She squeals, rounding up to your table. She ignores the seats and sits on the table itself. “Are they bothering you? I can see that you’re uncomfortable.”

You lean back and cross your arms, waiting to see what Damian will do. You would’ve thought he would be more of a recluse, liked by nobody. Perhaps this older Damian has more charm than the ones you’ve read about. Or maybe only the girls of the school like him.

Damian sends you a look that says do not leave me to the vultures.

You raise your eyebrows as if to say not friends, remember? This has nothing to do with me.

“Victoria,” Damian greets. Victoria’s face lights up in satisfaction at the fact he knows her name. Oof, girl, have some standards. “I am fine. You need not concern yourself.”

“Oh, but I can see it on your face, Damian. You don’t have to save face for someone like them ,” Victoria looks you up and down. There’s no doubt she means to isolate you because you’re not a rich heir like the rest of them.

Damian’s about to speak up (in your defense? You doubt it) when you lean forward, discreetly pulling down your own collar. “Victoria, was it? Can I call you Vicky? Where’d you get your nails done?”

Victoria brings her hands to her chest, rubbing her fingers over her nails. “Oh– um. My… cousin. My cousin does nails as a hobby.” Her eyes are flickering from your face to your chest. You reach forward and grab her hand delicately, humming as you look at her nails. “These look really good. How much were they?”

Your eyes are boring into hers as you await her answer. Her mouth is slightly agape. Her hand twitches in your grasp as you let a breath fall onto it. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before she finds herself. “It-It surely costs more than you can afford.” She yanks her hand back and it falls to her side. She looks at Damian before looking back at you, and turns around and walks off without another word.

A grin graces your face, satisfied with your results. Looking at Damian, you raise your brow in question. “Well? How’d I do?”

Damian is staring at you, like he is truly seeing you for the first time. He blinks and shakes himself out of whatever revelry he’s in (you hope you haven’t given too much away…) and answers you. “It’s no easy feat repelling Victoria. I commend you.”

“Is that a compliment? Oh my God, have I thawed your frozen heart, Elsa?” The bell rings and he walks away before you can say more.

You find out Victoria's in your ballet class. You feel her eyes on you the whole period.

You practice figure drawing in art. You ignore Damian’s stare on you the whole period.

It’s a cool night in Gotham. You’ve defended some homeless people being harassed, helped someone's cat out of a tree (you didn’t know that could actually happen) and helped an old lady home safely. It’s a pretty quiet night for Gotham, all things considered. The city moves on in spite of you, a maze of crime and corruption, but also of people worth saving.

You can’t help yourself and snap a couple of photos, for your eyes only. Anything that’ll make you feel like back home is good in your books.

watching behind you

You stand, straightening your shoulders. You’re sure the Bats know about your existence. Whoever it is, you’ll give them a scare first.

You lift your foot, letting it dangle off the ledge of the building. Their footsteps hasten to get to you. Gravity pulls you down. They’re running to you now. You spread your arms and fall.

A figure clad in black and red grasps the ledge, looking over, grappling hook in hand. They’re met with you, casually standing on the side of the building, defying gravity. “Looking for me?”

Robin makes room for you as you climb back up, crouching on the ledge once more. You stick out your hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of you guys. Big fan.”

Robin takes out his sword and holds it to your neck in one swift movement. “Tough crowd,” you mutter, clicking your tongue.

“Who are you and what business do you have in Gotham.” Straight to the point as always, Damian.

“My name is Spinnerette, nice to meet you!” You grab his hand before he can tug it out of your reach, shaking it. “And I thought it was pretty obvious, no? I’m in the saving people business, like you guys! That’s my business.”

“Children should not run around pretending to fight crime because they think it’s cool.”\

You huff. “Okay, one , the first robin was like, five. Two , how old do you think I am? Three , dude, I’ve been doing this for years.”

He tuts. “Is that right? How come I’ve never heard of you?”

You shrug. “I’m not from around here.” You’re not lying, that’s for sure.

The sword doesn’t move from your neck, and you sigh. Grabbing the sword makes an audible clink as it meets the metal of your suit. You slowly move it away from your neck, taking note of how Robin tries to meet your strength head-on, and failing to do so. Languidly moving, you invade his personal space. You throw your arms over his shoulders, making him sway side to side with you.

“You’re hurting my feelings, Rob,” you hum. You see his eyes squint through his mask. Dragging a claw down his cheek, you’re aware that you are completely indulging yourself right now. You should’ve swung away as soon as your senses alerted you to his presence.

Pretender, your brain whispers to you.

You will the thought away. “You know, some species of spiders eat birds,” you flirt.

“You have abhorrent ideas of flirting.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m rusty.”

“Some species also eat their mates,” he flirts back. Oh?

You grin, feral and hidden. “Ohoh, considering yourself my mate already, birdie?” His hands grasp your hips, pulling you closer. Chest to chest with him, you lean in, whispering “you like the idea of me eating you? Perv.”

“You jump to conclusions.” His cheek is against yours.

“Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”

You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.”

You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away.

“I’m just better.”

“They call themselves Spinnerette,” is what Damian says as he enters the Batcave.

Bruce only sighs. He really shouldn’t be so surprised Damian went after the new meta. He turns around in his chair, facing Damian. He makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

“Their suit is made of some kind of metal. It is high-grade, something I’m not familiar with. The eyes of their suit react, like they mimic their expression. They can stick to walls and webs come out from a device on their wrist. They are intelligent and were able to divert my intentions to put a tracker on them,” Damian huffs.

He moves to stand next to his father. “They say they have been acting as a vigilante for years. They are also not native to Gotham.”

Bruce nods, “that narrows it down a little.”

“They were insulted by my insinuation that they were a child, so I assume they are at least in high school.”

Bruce types all the information in the Batcomputer, fingers flying across the keyboard. The results narrow down. Several databases appear on screen.

“If they are your age they could very well attend the Academy,” Bruce hums, hand over his mouth in thought.

“I have someone in mind already, but I will be sure to evaluate all my peers.”

Bruce smiles. “I’m surprised to hear you call them your peers.”

Damian’s lips twitch, walking out of the cave without further word.

You’ve decided to put plans for the nanite chamber on hold for now in exchange for a far, more efficient use of your time. The battery will last you, you’re just being paranoid.

You’re going to pull a Tony Stark and create a new element.

Technically you’re just going to use the blueprints Tony put in your suit (thank you tony, we all say in unison) and follow them, but in this universe badassium isn’t a thing. 

A clean and powerful energy source, to power your way back home and for the world to use. You know what they say about leaving things better than when you found it.

You’ve changed your plans for one main reason; when Tony Stark made his new element, he also made a particle accelerator. 

It starts in your engineering class. You swipe as much material as you can, stuffing it into your backpack. Tony’s makeshift build took up his whole lab, and the one you found that landed you here was huge, so you’ll grab as much as you can.

Next is finding a place to work. Your apartment is a no-go, so you spend time off patrol to look for places. An abandoned warehouse could work in theory, but how many times has a villain used one for their operations? You’ll go without bumping into the Joker, thank you.

The problem is that you don’t know this city, so you make an impulsive decision. During classes, you spend time building a mini robot that will infiltrate and access the Batcomputer. You know Wayne Manor is equipped with state-of-the-art security, from reinforced structures to advanced alarm systems. It is very likely your little buddy will not make it out, but Karen only needs enough time to upload to the computer.

You spend your programming class calibrating Karen into W.E.B.B.E.R. (Karen comes up with the acronym, it stands for Wireless Enabled Bionic Bot for Exploration and Reconnaissance) instead of doing the assignment. You can easily do it later. If Damian notices how in your mind you’ve been lately, he doesn’t say anything. WEBBER is finished in three days. Now it’s up to you to get it past Wayne Manor's defenses and into the batcave.

You sit pondering on a rooftop during patrol. Damian is a hesitant option. You’re are certain he’ll notice if you stick a little spider robot on him. Red Hood probably doesn’t visit very often, for obvious reasons. You might be able to sneak it past Nightwing, but there aren't many places on that skin-tight suit for WEB to hide. Orphan is a hard no, nothing gets past Cassandra Cain. You groan into your hands. WEB’s little feet pat your mask.

“Perhaps it would be easier to infiltrate myself,” Karen suggests.

“There’s no way to get into the cave without authorized access, and that's if  WEB isn’t somehow destroyed as soon as it hits the property’s soil,” you sigh. “You could override its systems to get inside, but that’ll just put everyone on high alert.”

“Then perhaps we approach their civilian identities.” Karen pulls up security footage of a cafe that none other than Tim Drake likes to frequent. It’ll be risky, since Drake’s got a damn good keen eye. However, you’ll bank on the fact that that guy does not get as much sleep as he should, thus making him less aware.

“Thanks, K.” You hardly sleep that night.

You spend the weekend lingering at the mentioned cafe. After some hard thought, you’ve forgone a disguise. He’ll notice if you’re trying to hide your features, so you just have to hope and pray that you become another blurred face he sees.

“He’s walking your way, [Name].”

You take a deep breath as WEBBER crawls onto your shoulder. He’s wearing layers, so WEB will have an easier time staying hidden. The robot is light, you made sure. You walk towards him, keeping your gaze forward. If this doesn’t work, you’ll figure something out. You just… really hope it doesn’t come down to that.

As you get closer, you side-step out of his way and allow your shoulder to pass his, not touching, but almost. WEBBER hops onto him and scuttles into his breast pocket.

“I will make sure I am not seen.”

“I trust you, Karen.”

Tim Drake does not notice the little spider hidden in his clothes. He returns to Wayne Manor none the wiser. WEBBER clings to his back as he makes his way down to the Batcave. You watch through the little camera from your laptop. Your jaw drops.

Literally every Bat and Bird, former or current, is down there. Even Oracle herself is there. They’re all in civvies, so you suspect they’re just hanging out and chose the goddamn Batcave to do so.

“Just…” you sigh, already done with your spidey luck, “...keep going, K.”

WEBBER hops down from Tim’s back, scrambling across the floor. The mic you impulsively added picks up on conversation.

“I think you’re looking a little too hard into things, man.” It’s Duke Thomas.

“They just seem like the main character trying to find their way into the world. Rich dad sends his kid into adulthood all alone. They struggle to fit in under the guise that they have less money than their peers. ‘Woe is me’ type of stuff, y’know?” Stephanie Brown.

There’s a scoff. “They hold too much intelligence to have that kind of persona. They are able to direct less than welcome attention with careful words and persuasion. They do not pay attention in class, yet their grades are pristine. I’ve seen their drawings in their sketchbook when they are not looking, it’s filled with equations and ideas for ‘personal projects’.”

Is he talking about… you? That sneaky bastard, when did he peek at your notes!? Have you been that distracted at school?

“It says that their dad’s an inventor,” comes Barbara’s voice. She’s on the Batcomputer, WEBBER has been waiting for when she turns around or gets off to make its move. “They obviously get it from him, then. What, you think they’re building a world-ending weapon or something?”

“I think,” he grits out, “that they are a suspicious person, appearing at the same time our new spider friend did.”

Bruce hums. “It’s plausible.”

Goddammit.

Barbara turns around, and WEB scuttles around the back of the Batcomputer. “If they are Spinnerette, It’s not like they’re performing any unwelcome actions. They’re just doing what the rest of us do.”

“Yeah,” comes Dick Grayson, “Bruce is only irked ‘cause he hasn’t gotten the chance to adopt them yet.” A round of chuckles is heard.

WEBBER plugs into the Batcomputer, and an alert pops onto the screen immediately. Barbara whips around, fingers flying onto the keyboard.

“Someone’s hacking into the Batcomputer.” Her words put everyone in the room at attention.

“Trace it,” growls Bruce. It’s a remarkable thing to be able to switch into his Batman mode like that.

Barbara throws up countless defenses, but Karen is an AI made by Tony freakin’ Stark , and you are his protégé.

“They’re bypassing all my shields, they’re getting in!” Barbara growls.

Tim and Bruce race to begin helping her, but your superspeed allows you to type faster than all three geniuses.

They watch as files are opened and downloaded into Karen’s system as she uploads herself. Info about the city, criminals and heroes alike are getting into ‘enemy’ hands before they’re very eyes.

“I can’t track them,” grits Barbara.

The room is silent as Karen finishes her job. Gotham’s protectors are greeted with a single pop-up.

“THANK YOU.”

It taunts them. Bruce slams a hand onto the table. “They have everything .”

“Time to get the hell out of dodge, K.”

WEBBER unplugs from the Batcomputer and scuttles to a hiding spot.

“How is this possible? They were able to dodge and counter all of my firewalls like it was nothing. B, what do we do?” Barbara runs a hand through her hair, stressed. It seems like whenever she visits she can never catch a break.

“Keep trying to find their trace, we’ll find them eventually.” Bruce turns around to see his kiddos standing straight, ready for orders. He looks at Damian.

“Do you think they have the capacity to do this?” He’s talking about you.

“They have a computer programming class. I will observe them to see if it’s possible,” vows Damian. You’ll have to be more careful from now on.

“I’ll ask Selina to keep an eye on them. I owe her a favor.” A few faces twist in disgust at what exactly Selina could have done for him to owe her.

“Suit up, be extra vigilant today. They may try to enact whatever plans they have.”

Nodding, they scurry to change into their suits. WEBBER hitches a ride on Tim again as he exits the cave. The robot hops off as soon as he leaves the manor's grounds. That’s your cue to suit up.

You quickly hop across rooftops and swing to WEBBERs location. Arriving at its location, you cradle the bot gently in your hands, running a finger across its back. “Good job, Karen.”

“There are many old tunnels from previous subways, they may lead to your new lab. I’ve also left a backdoor should we ever need to access their database again.”

You nod, webbing a nearby building to swing away. The city passes under you, bright lights from cars blurring together. You perform flips and twirls, you’re in a pretty good mood, all things considered. People point at you in recognition as you rush by. The people of Gotham are becoming familiar with their new friendly neighborhood spider.

You hop down into the old tunnel. It’s covered in cobwebs and dust. Looking around, you see that the station has not seen life in ages. Footsteps echo as you start down the tracks. The station you’re in right now is accessible through a hole, so hopefully you can find one that is completely caved in.

You hope the team doesn't miss you too terribly. You wonder if you’re even being looked for, and then immediately shake the thought away. You are being looked for. You’re certain that Tony and Miguel are butting heads right now about how to best find you.

The tracks end with a bunch of rocks collapsed onto them. It takes minimal effort to move them out of the way, you just hope you don’t accidentally cause a mini rockslide, or something. You side step the pile, entering the large area of the abandoned station. The walls are littered with aged graffiti. The stairs that normally would lead out are collapsed in. There’s vegetation growing about, so you’ll probably get them something to drink in order to not invoke Poison Ivy’s wrath.

“I believe this will make quite the suitable hideout,” chimes Karen.

She’s right. With some decorating this could be a real cozy place. “A little Spider Den,” you whisper. Your new lab.

When you got home after finding the Den, you got rid of the monstrosity of cables from your gritty suit charger. If Selina Kyle is going to be poking around your apartment (because she’ll definitely do it while you’re gone) you want to appear as a normal person. You leave sketches of throwaway inventions, notes for class and random homework around the place.

May pipes up when she sees you leaving for work, “you look happy.”

You pause, thinking of your answer. “I… found what I was looking for.” It’s vague, but true.

“Since you’ve come here, you’ve always looked troubled,” hums May. “But lately you seem to be finding stable ground.”

You smile and nod, saying nothing as you walk out.

Sam greets you as you walk in. “How was your first week, scholar?”

You groan dramatically, “it’s terrible, save me oh great Sam,” you exaggerate. Sam opens their arms and you fall into them. “There, there,” they coo. “Was it that bad for real?”

“No.” Your voice is muffled in their arms. “I’m just really… bored.”

Sam bursts out laughing. “The little genius baby is stuck with their less than genius peers!” Sam’s voice has drawn out Carrie and Gar.

“Look who’s back! Thank God, kid. This place was falling apart without you,” Carrie says, grinning.

Gar crosses his arms. “Find your ‘rich future spouse’ yet?”

You chuckle, “not yet.”

The pair go off to get the cafe ready for opening, and you're still in Sam’s arms.

“I ever tell you about my own Sam back home?” You’re not sure why you’ve spoken up.

Sam raises a brow. “Don’t think so. You trying to share with the class now?”

Inside the dimly lit workshop at the Tower, you tinker away at Redwing as Sam stands over your shoulder.

“You’re hurting him.”

“He is fine, you big baby. I know what I’m doing.”

It amuses you how much Sam sees Redwing as a living thing. You’re told not to encourage it, but what’s the harm?

“The chip is just a little fried,” you say, angling so that Sam can see. “It’s an easy fix.”

Sam lays a hand on his chest, sighing in relief. “Thought we were gonna have to put him down.” You snort at his dramatics.

The workshop falls into silence as you tinker away. “What made you come up with Redwing?” you say, never one for quiet.

Sam’s face lights up. “I needed something that could give me an edge in the field without being too bulky. A mix of coolness and necessity, you know?” He pokes Redwings’ ‘nose’. “Plus, there’s that winning personality.”

“Personality, huh?” You think of Karen.

“Yeah, Redwings not a tool, he’s a partner.” There’s fondness in Sam’s voice. “He scouts, gathers intel, and watches my back.”

You hum in thought, realizing how similar Redwing and Karen are. “Sounds like the two of you are really close.”

“I like to think so.” The workshop is filled with chatter as the two of you work away the hours.

“Maybe another time,” you mutter, face squished into Sam’s chest. Sam drops the subject.

It’s another slow day at the cafe. You get that inkling that someone is watching you, but you see nobody. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian is spying on you from the next building over. At least the cafe plays good music over the speakers. You hum the lyrics as you clean the countertops.

The door chimes as someone walks in “Welcome to Carrie’s, how can I help you?”

“Hey, you.”

You look up, meeting the very blue eyes of one Jonathan Kent. You can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. “Hey, you!” you echo, smiling.

Jon brightens up at your smile. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you hum. “I’m really good.” You are. Once night time hits, you’ll go to the Den and finally start on your plans to recreate Tony’s badassium.

“In fact, I feel so good that I’m gonna ask you this; wanna go hang out at my place after I get off?” One might say you’re indulging yourself. You say you’re trying to seems as un-suspicious to Jon as possible. When Damian finds out you have ties to him, he’ll ask Jon everything he knows about you, and possibly even ask him to survey you. Hopefully your front as a regular ole highschooler keeps him from figuring you out.

Jon blinks in surprise, stuttering, “w-well, sure. Yeah. Totally, why not? Just…” he pauses, “...I still don’t know your name.”

You smile. “Shoot, yeah. Sorry about that.” You straighten your posture, sticking out a hand. “I’m [Name]. [Name] Stark.”

You see the little twitch of his brow. Ah, so Damian has already told him about you.

“Nice to meet you, [Name]. I’m Jonathan Kent. Keep calling me Jon, though,” Jon says, shaking your hand.

You pull away. “So, a small vanilla latte for you, not-stranger?”

“You remember,” he chuckles. You nod. You feel his eyes on you as you make his drink.

“So,” you say as you hand him the cup. “I get off at five, see you then?” you feign shyness.

He nods rapidly. “See you at five.”

You count down the minutes until you get off from work. You swear you see some blue blurs rush by in the sky and wonder if it’s Superboy. Wonder if this Batman is more lenient to others operating in Gotham.

The sun has only just begun its descent into the Earth when you step outside. Your bag is thrown over your shoulder. You look around, Jon isn’t there. You doubt he’s the type to bail, so you lean against the front of the building. You busy yourself with some more Crossy Road to pass the time. Five minutes pass, when you sigh. Maybe you were too hasty.

“[Name]!”

You turn, seeing Jon running to you. His appearance is ruffled, his shirt is inside out and his hair is all over the place. He was definitely Superboying around.

“Did you run all the way here?” you offer as an explanation for his appearance.

He claims it. “Yeah, sorry. I got caught up in some stuff.”

You can’t help yourself, and reach up to tame some of his hair. “Looks like you ran through a high powered fan, or something.”

He mindlessly tilts his head to let you do as you please, looking at you. You don’t dare meet his gaze. “Ok,” you say when you’re satisfied with his hair. “Let’s go.”

He offers his arm and you take it. “I wouldn’t think a Gothamite would tell me where they live on our second meeting,” he says.

“They probably wouldn’t,” you hum. “I’m not originally from Gotham, though.”

He blinks. “You’re not? I thought you were.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” It means you’ve done a good job at fitting it. “But no, I’m actually from Queens. New York.”

He hums. “I thought the accent was a little different.”

May greets you as you walk in, widening her eyes when she sees Jon. You ignore her wiggling brows as the two of you make your way up. Entering your apartment, nothing looks out of place, but your trained eye can see the way your papers have shifted from their original position. So Selina Kyle did end up snooping while you were gone.

“This is me,” you say, arms gesturing to the apartment. Nari rounds the corner, meowing for your attention. “And this,” you lift Nari into your arms, “is Nari.”

Jon pets Nari between his ears. “Hi, Nari.”

You put Nari in his arms, ignoring his small protests. Nari looks very content in Jon’s big arms. You snap a picture for yourself.

“My friend is actually a big fan of animals,” hums Jon, looking down at Nari.

“Yeah?” He’s talking about Damian. “The one that goes to GA?”

He nods. “His name is Damian. Damian Wayne. Have you met him?” His eyes bear into yours, switching into that hero interrogation mode. You wonder just how much Damian has told him.

“Yeah, I got a couple of classes with him.” You sit down on your couch, leaning back. “He’s got a real unique persona.” Jon chuckles in agreement, sitting down next to you. “How’d you become friends with a guy like that?”

“Our dads know each other.” Right.

“Well, he’s pretty cute. That’s all I got to say about him,” you say, looking over and snorting at Jon’s expression. His eyes are widened, no doubt wondering if he should leave out the fact that you just said that when he relays the info to Damian later.

“Well, I got some popcorn and some movies on my laptop. You down?” Jon nods.

You spend a couple hours sitting and chatting as you watch a couple of horror movies. Jon acted brave, but you could tell he was just a tiny bit freaked out.

Now, you swing to your new hideout, now equipped with cute fairy lights and cobweb hammocks. It wasn’t hard to get power working in the place, just tedious. Seriously, the amount of rubble you had to clear was atrocious.

You pull up the blueprints on a digital interface via your suit. “Alright, Karen. Let’s get to work."

When Miguel got an alert that you had been requesting assistance, he straightened up immediately. He had been running regular people errands, so he had to quickly stop by the HQ to suit up and get ready. From there he found out you had also contacted Peni, he started rushing. The other Spiderlings had caught wind of this, and demanded to tag along. Miguel and the kids entered a portal to your universe, and were immediately met with the large, inactive particle accelerator.

He hears Miles take a deep breath. It’s just like the one from his universe. You’re nowhere to be seen.

Lyla pops up next to him. “There’s been recent activity here. It was activated two times.”

“Two?” Miguel mutters.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it much, when some of the goddamn Avengers come barreling in. Iron Man, The Hulk (it’s just Bruce Banner right now, though) and Black Widow stand at the ready, looking at Miguel and the gang in apprehension.

“Oh, you’re my kids' little spider friends, right?” Tony’s voice is dry, feigning friendliness as if he isn’t pointing at them, ready to blast.

“We got an alert signal from [Name]’s suit,” Bruce explains, ignoring Tony’s betrayed stare.

“So did we,” says Hobie, analyzing the three.

Lyla tuts. “I’m not picking up their watch's signal.”

“[Name]’s tracker went offline, too.”

Miguel’s eyes scan his surroundings, settling on a pile of broken pieces on the floor. Broken watch pieces. He hears Pav and Gwen gasp as he kneels by it. “It’s their watch,” he explains to the Avengers, “the thing that allows them to multiversal travel.”

“Why is it broken.” Black Widow doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“Because someone must have broken it,” concludes Miguel. He straightens. “The watches are strong, it wasn’t an accident. Someone was here, with [Name].”

“Well now there’s nobody here, and [Name] is off the radar so where are they? ” growls Tony.

“The only plausible answer is that they’re in another universe.” Miguel looks at the particle accelerator. “Without a watch.”

The kids look sick to their stomachs. “Can’t we trace the signal from the accelerator?” questions Peni.

“Normally, I could,” chimes Lyla. “But… I can’t.”

“ Why not?” Miles questions.

“Okay, so you know that there are literally infinite universes out there. If each universe is a satellite and the watches, or the accelerator in this case, is a signal, then there’s only a certain ‘distance’ I can trace [Name]’s whereabouts.”

Gwen thinks she’s getting a headache. “So, what? She’s in a universe that’s ‘too far away’?”

Lyla nods. “In that sense, yes.”

“This is pointless,” huffs Tony, walking up to Miguel. “We are wasting time talking about technicalities, we should be looking for my kid.”

“Is there anyone you know who could’ve built this?” Miguel asks Tony.

“Nobody smart enough has it out that bad for [Name]. Unless it was another me or another [Name] there’s no one capable of doing this without someone noticing,” Tony pauses, looking at the spider variants before him.

Tony’s voice drops into a whisper, “could someone from another universe have done this?”

“If someone from another universe ended up in this one, why throw [Name] into a random one?” Bruce stresses. “They wouldn’t have any strife with Spinnerette.”

“Unless it’s a spidey villain.”

“What spidey villain is smart enough to do this? Doc Ock?”

“Maybe–”

Miguel interrupts, “it was activated twice, so one time was for [Name] entering it, and the other was for whoever broke their watch. They built this–” Miguel gestures to the giant machine, “–so they were obviously here for a while.”

“Only a fool would attempt a multiversal jump without certainty that they could get back home, so that means–”

“–they accidentally got stuck here,” finishes Tony, looking graver by the minute. 

“For who knows how long,” hums Hobie, now in thought.

“Trying to get back home, they build a particle accelerator–”

“–clearly their work is cut out for them, otherwise they would have come up with a much smaller design–”

“–they meet [Name], who would see this and automatically assume they’re a threat.”

“[Name] would try to shut it down, and our mystery guy gets desperate, because [Name]’s the one thing standing between them and their way back home.”

“The particle accelerator is already activated. They see the watch, recognize it as a multiversal travel tool and smash it–”

“–so that [Name] can’t find them–”

“–because they throw [Name] into another universe.”

“They go back home to their universe scott-free.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure how Black Widow’s unhappy with the development.

“In other news, I’ve got the trace of the other person who used the accelerator!” Lyla sings.

Miguel’s face scrunches. “If we don’t know which universe [Name] is in, I really doubt they do.”

“I’d still like a word with them,” Black Widow crosses her arms.

“Maybe later, right now–” Miguel turns to the Spiderlings. “–we should head back to HQ. We’ll send out an alert, every spider will look for [Name] when they can. We’ll search every universe if we have to.”

“Great, what do we do?” Tony asks, gesturing to his comrades.

“Miguel turns back to them. “You said [Name]’s got a tracker in the suit, right?” Tony nods. “We’ll need something that can latch onto its signal as soon as a Spider enters an Earth, no matter how far away they are. Can you build something like that? You can use tech from other universes if you need to.”

Tony nods, resolute. “You better get my kid back.”

Miguel nods. “We will.” A portal opens, swallowing Miguel and the Spiderlings.

“FRI, get the workshop ready and notify the others of the situation,” says Tony, turning around and making his way out of the warehouse. Nat and Bruce follow. “I want Strange and Wanda on this immediately.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Tony mutters under his breath, “I’ll get my damn kid back, alright.”

notes: if you're female-identifying ur def vicky's gay awakening LOL

i'm not entirely sure is "badassium" is the canon name for tony's new element, i actually think i saw somewhere that it was the name fans gave it. either way "badassium" is what we rockin' with.

i hope my explanation as to why reader hasn't been found isn't too confusing. i didn't plan on having it kind of explained so soon but a group up spideys (who are all basically genius cuz they're SPIDERMAN) are bound to figure it out. also like that whole 'the spiders and the avenger' meeting scene was supposed to be in the last chapter but i forgot to add it LOL

also chatgpt came up with webbers acronym guys i am NOT smart enough for that.

damian: good job getting into their base of operations (apartment) now we can gather more info on them

jon, who just wanted to spend time w/ reader: oh yeah lol light work

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

[rabbit-or-rib]

Rubbing my hands together evily again

Wondering if I could make another request of it's alright

Tim, Brian, and Evan (I have favorites hehe) with a gn or Afab s/o whos an artist and sees them as a muse

(could be sfw could be nsfw whatevers more fun)

Tyty and your works are great :3!!

-🐟

hi !! glad to see you're taking requests for evan :) I was wondering if you could do some hcs for Evan with a reader who draws/sketches a bunch?? like they always use evan for inspo in drawings and they draw things they do in their relationship?? maybe something about how evan catches them looking and drawing him when they think he's not looking.. and maybe if you'd like you could include habit and his reaction to it as well.. I hope this makes sense and isn't too much!! if it is feel free to ignore 🫶

i decided to combine these two just to make it easier for navigation and all that, i hope that's okay !! thank you both soso much :) <333

🚬📹☠️🐇 Tim Wright / Brian Thomas / Evan Myers / HABIT x artist!reader

· · ·

Tim :

listen

he hates to pry. he really does.

but he wants to see EVERYTHING

he's trying to sneak peaks going behind the couch when your drawing in the living room, oh-so-conveniently needing to be in your guys' room when you're working on something at your desk- he thinks he's being very covert

he's an awkward and easily embarrassed man, he doesn't think to just ask to see no matter how many times you tell him he can

he is thoroughly thrown through a loop when he sees you drawing him

he has some. not great self esteem regarding all of the things he's been through and been told, and he has good reason to be anxious about most things- especially someone important leaving him

him getting reassurance that you actually do like how he looks and that you love him so much he's stuck in your mind when he's gone means so, so much more than he could ever comfortably express.

he does try to, though

through embarrassed and deeper mumbled praise, some red tinted cheeks and his finger nervously rubbing at the edge of the page

he asks if he can keep a smaller doodle on him :)

Brian :

YOUR !! BIGGEST !!! SUPPORTER !!!!

he's hyping you up however he knows possible

he was a theater and film kid, there's no way he didn't meet a couple art kids in there

he'll get a real good look at whatever it is you show him before he points out things like the shading in a particular area looks really good, the line art flows really well, things like that

as a former (short term lol) actor, he knows how frustrating it can be to just hear a "that looks great!" when you've worked really hard on something

if you draw HIM?? he's beyond flattered

and a little taken aback by how much you remember of him

Brian's big on trying to figure out other people, understand what makes them the way they are, what they're gonna do- so much so i think that he can forget how much other people soak him in, too

so when you showcase all of your focus and love for him through your art, it fixes up his worldview a little bit

he has a big burst of that "this is why i love you" feeling and he looks at you with the biggest dopiest smile

if you let him keep any of the work you do he'll try to find a way to keep at least one of them on him at all times

in his wallet, phone case, jean pocket, something like that

he just wants a little bit of you wherever he goes :)

Evan :

HE LOVES IT SO MUCH

little doodles on the grocery list, scribbles on the corner of a reminders list, drawing on his hand when you get bored; you name it and he's gonna cherish it

he thinks it's the cutest thing when you think he can't see you looking up at him every now and then while you're buried in your sketchbook across the couch

you have an entire page that's getting decorated with scattered snapshots of your life together

the two of you with your foreheads pressed together laughing at each other from when he was trying to butter you up to try and get you to go to a specific place for dinner, how he looked at you when you cut your finger making lunch and he decided he hand to kiss all over your hand for good measure- so many small moments that meant the world in both of your hearts and, eventually, you end up wanting to show him what you've been working on

and he may or may not have gotten a little bit very emotional about it

you just mean so much to him

this poor man has been through and lost so much

he's so grateful for you, and to know that you're so grateful for him as well? and enough to cherish the same moments he does and immortalize the two of you like that? he's gone

HABIT :

NOOOSSSSYYYYYYYYYY BASTARD

you couldn't hide a crumb from him

he's known you've been drawing him since the first time you did it because he is a little SPY

he can be so quiet when he feels like it, and he wants to see eeeeverything you draw

the process intrigues him

if he caught you looking up and back down to your sketchbook at him, i can see him doing two things

going over and seeing how the drawing looks already because he wants to know what you think he looks like

OR rapidly switching positions for you to draw him in, "is this my good side? make sure you get my face. can you draw me with blood? i want blood-"

he is very proud to be your muse, though

he'll hang up any finished pieces you let him have

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

[kyoghurts]

♡₊˚ i love flowers (you.) ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

𓈒 ˚ ⟡ : Flowers: Sweet smiles. Blooming cheeks. Growing feelings. Nurturing. Flourishing. Uncertain yet Exciting, so Eager, for whatever that comes next.

𓈒 ˚ ⟡ : There’s a time and place where, everything comes to a still, the quiet begins to engulf Chigiri and you— who teaches him your favorite language— flows upon him with such ease. As if its meant for him, as if its meant for you.

tags. chigiri hyoma/reader. fluff. 1.9k wc. forehead kisses. mentions of—well, flowers. pretty chigiri because he’s our princess forever. soft aaa fic. first love, late spring. NO angst /gen. trust me on this. no angst hehe you get all the fluff you need.

There’s a distinct look in chigiri’s eyes whenever he sees a flower. it’s presence never fails to ring your name in his mind, as if he’s under a spell that everytime he sees them, he will inevitably think of you.

A smile graces Chigiri’s lips, he doesn’t want to think of anyone or anything else but you, and maybe, the flowers are just an excuse for him to let you invade his mind—in a way that’s not intruding, inviting even.

He remembers the time between school breaks (all too well.) where he would plop himself beside you, the purposeful screeching of the chair as he drag it slowly and sit down, a smile that’s not really sweet but more annoying because he knows you value this moment of quiet, you don’t have it that much, and he’s definitely not making it easier for you. But you settle for a sigh in resignation and you leave it just that, with no protest or whatsoever, he doesn’t know why—but he thanks you internally that you hadn’t pushed him away so far.

The classroom is filled with nothing. Except for the two of you who rests well with silence, you’re seated near the window, the clear sky and slightly chilly breeze kisses chigiri’s skin just right. Ah, he likes this. Likes being near you and oh—he notices just now that you’re drawing something on your sketchpad the size of a notebook, the soft scraping sound of your pencil and your long, content breathing are the only thing he hears—his chest feels warm and light for all the right reasons.

You’re drawing a flower and the pressure of each stroke and lines are precise, chigiri is not an artist himself, but he’s aware that your hands are made to create. they’re graceful and beautiful, he thinks. but also powerful and creative. He likes to know what it feels like to tread his way into the empty spaces between your fingers, encase them with his and perhaps even kiss each of your knuckles—

“What’s your favorite flower?”

He blinks. stares wide like a deer caught in a headlight. “What?”

You don’t answer and instead, continue doing your work. He lets the question sink in for a while, and he scratches his head when his mind goes blank. “I don’t really have one…”

It sounds like a whisper but it’s not, your voice is just soft, more softer than he realized. You say, “Mm, too bad. I could draw your favorite here, beside this.” You tap your fingers at the flower, drawn by you and no one else, created by your artist hands alone and he’s torn—he had seen flowers and had even received one too many times from people who confessed their love for him, but his mind could not conjure up the feeling of the stem in his hands, how it smells or any memory he could fish out and reminisce.

He curses himself at that. He takes a good look at your clean sketch before asking, “is this your favorite?” when you hum in response, he follows up another question; why? What made you like them? Do you have any good memories with them?

Your lips curve and your eyes paint a color of happiness and nostalgia as you answer each of his questions with no sense of urgency, you talk slowly, but your expression is beaming with so many stories to tell. He listens, hand in his chin and nods off every now and then. He finds himself enraptured in the moment, the way you pause, your careful words, the adorable look in your gaze and—flowers, huh? realization kicks in, hits him in the spot so sweet that he grins, this is the first time he’s seen you like this, bubbling with excitement, talking about a thing you like, and its about flowers…

He needs to find his favorite flower soon.

ever since then, even a street flower he’d see on a random day could make his heart thrum in tender rhythms as your name whispers in his mind. your beaming face. your excited eyes. your lovely drawing. your soft voice.

And maybe it’s a little sheepish, because at one point he caught himself searching through lists of flowers on the internet, learn a bit more of your favorites (he didn’t know where to start, actually, but he’s trying.) He didn’t stop, and of course you noticed this. The way he would come up to you any chance he gets, even a simple greeting would make your cheeks flush, because he’s always…more flourishing when he’s with you. The lilt in his voice and your name melts in his lips so endearing, and then—the simple update: “I saw a flower today!”

‘It reminded me of you’ Those that he leaves unsaid are written in his looks—which, is plenty enough for you. Chigiri can conclude that as much, and he intends it to be that way. You swear the grin on his face is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen; you reflect one of your own.

‘Really? How sweet of you.’ You ruffle his hair and snicker. “Yeah? Tell me all about it.”

And he does. You think its the first time you had a smile so wide for a long while.

The feeling sits a little foreign to you, but you want it to stay. To nestle within you slowly and carefully.

This feeling— You want to nurture it.

In time, even you— would also tell him about your stories of flowers, that they remind you of him, too. Unspoken feelings and the language of flowers tying you together in the easy sea, taking you forward, he became something you look forward to everyday. In the morning, in his after practices, between breaks, late midnight calls — time is a precious thing, and you want to spend them with Chigiri as much as you can.

(Flowers: Sweet smiles. Blooming cheeks. Growing feelings. Nurturing. Flourishing. Uncertain yet Exciting, so Eager, for whatever that comes next.)

(There’s a time and place where, everything comes to a still, the quiet begins to engulf Chigiri and you— who teaches him your favorite language— flows upon him with such ease. As if its meant for him, as if its meant for you.)

Chigiri took you out on a date. Simple yet profound and special. One day full of first times and one day full of wishes for many times.

“I like your voice.” Chigiri admits in the middle of your rambling as he walks you back home, a little too breathy as if he’s not actually telling you this and you almost missed it. He clarifies, although similar to the level of quiet, he’s looking at you now in a way it makes your stomach does somersaults. “I wanna hear you talk about—something that you like, what makes you happy, drawing, and flowers— anything. I like your voice so much.”

You stop in your tracks and hesitate. It dawns upon you how beautiful Chigiri is bathed in the moonlight glow. He gave you lots of first, and you’re selfish enough to wish for more. But today, you will give just as much. So you say, breathy, “And I like talking to you, Chigiri. You make me happy.”

He smiles like he’s giving you the sun, when it’s cold out but everything feels so warm, he kisses your forehead, bids you goodnight and texts you that i got home safe, sleep well with your name beside a &lt;3 heart, 37 mins after while you’re getting ready for bed, and that you had the first night to sleep so soundly.

One day full of first times and one day full of wishes for many times.

Eventually, wishes do come true.

───・・✦

(Chigiri can conclude, with a fair amount of certainty, that there exists a world where it is forever frozen in place. Suspended in that point in life. He watches them over and over and yes, it’s his favorite memory. And yes, its that little break in the empty classroom that doesn’t feel empty because you’re both occupying the space—as if it’s meant for him, as if it’s meant for you. It was around the early summers. Which he hadn’t paid much attention up until now—now, yes, two years after this memory, and it’s late spring already. Now, where he’s too occupied being yours and you being his.)

(Around early summer, he saw a flower that time, too.)

(Chigiri now concludes that, in late spring, it will be his favorite onwards.)

───・・✦

The tree you’re sitting against provides a shield of foliage as you sketch away. it’s nice out here, the kind that lets you exhale through your nose in relief along the whisper of breeze, the kind that promises you with blissful thoughts and oh, its quiet, so nice and quiet, you can hear your boyfriend’s slow breaths, and—like god’s favorite— is sleeping on your lap like a princess. your princess.

His hair is more or less scattered, some flowers that you plucked moments ago adorning it, like a river with flowers dancing around (you fixed your flower crown subconsciously), cherry pink strands obscuring half of his face and you carefully brush them away. its quiet when each inhale and exhale makes his chest rise and fall, its quiet when you stare at his long and lustrous lashes, the light that bounces off of them reflect into precious jewels that you want to keep. its quiet when you brush your knuckles along his cheekbones that somehow glow and somehow you can’t help but curse of the fact that he’s soft. how is he so damn soft?

its quiet, the kind that makes your chest feel warm and light (and for all the right reasons.) its quiet and peaceful and you know you shouldn’t disrupt it, he’s in a deep slumber, a place where time feels insignificant — you wonder what he’s dreaming about, a smile curling its way to your lips. you know you shouldn’t disturb, but you’re already setting your sketchpad, your pencil tucked, on your other side and manage to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. its less than a habit and more of a communication.

“Hyo.” short, yet so important.

He twitches just slightly, and when he flutters his eyes open, all words stored in your throat has cease to exist. perhaps he sees it, your sudden pause as he lift his arm and his hand reaching to cup your cheek. quiet. sweet. patient.

“Again, please?” It takes you a few seconds to register, though his small pout tells you everything. Didn’t hear you the first time. Referring to the intimate way you called his name.

you say it again and there’s nothing more that you want than being here in this quiet space, he sits upright as he hugs you, arms holding you tight and pepper your neck small kisses, flutter of giggles erupt from your throat, he joins— and you sigh in content, muttering to him. “you have flowers all over.”

“like rupunzel?”

“sure”

“you have…” he gazes at the flower crown, tentative but with so much gentleness, he softly says “…forget-me-nots”

“i remember, this was the first flower you showed me after that conversation in the—“

“it’s my favorite.”

the moment he says it, the red that accompanies his ears are shy, the miniscule pout, the shaky intake of breath, he’s still looking at the flower, almost as if avoiding your gaze. “i-i know its a little late to uh, reveal that, but..yeah”

2 years. It’s been 2 years.

and without fail, you get shy with him as well. “oh, forget-me-nots, huh?”

a simple nod “i love—“ he looks at you. fixed and whole and certain. “i love flowers (you.)”

Chigiri Hyoma kisses your forehead like a promise, then sealing it with your lips, and smiling to you tenfolds.

you swear you want to tear up then and there. “i love flowers (you), too.”

notes. i was writing this and in the middle of it i thought of mitski’s first love/late spring and i was like “hey…HEY WHAT”my first fic for 2024! thank u sm for reading this!! been so long since i actually like my writing for once. but like there might be typos and the uppercase/lowercase letters (idk if i want to be in full lowercase or have some uppercase like a good grammar kid) i’ll edit them later or tmrw :D

taglist. @yoisami @kooriou

© kyoghurts. ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[bleucalire]

Hello!!! I literally adore your art style! The way you manage to add depth and perspective to your faces without heavy use of facial planes is really impressive because my art looks similar to yours, (but without the depth) but every time I try to use facial planes it just doesn't work with my style. Do you have any art tutorials or pics with guidelines?? and if not would you ever consider making any?

once again LOVE your art your azi and crowley are just ADORABLE!!

thanks!!

Hi !! Thank you for your kind message !!

I’m afraid I don’t have any strict process that i could explain..? Except A LOT of training ? 😭 I can share how I like to train though ! (it’s often warm-ups before starting working)

- Posemaniacs !!!

20min of 45sec-1min poses every morning is a super cool warm-up, and it forces you to be quick and go to the point ! No unnecessary lines ! (Posting my sketches because i often see people who starts using it trying to do super detailed pics, with a lot of lines, and can’t finish their sketches before the time limit. Loose sketches are fine, you want to get the pose, the perspective, the overall volume, not to create a masterpiece. Posemaniacs is super rad because it helps you learn how to draw any pose from any angle. Also they have a bank of hundreds of 3D models with various poses you can move and turn how you like in a 3D space when you want a reference for when you’re drawing !)

- Do studies from animators/series you like !

Sakugabooru is a mine of references for that ! (i do both movement studies and still of frames i find super cool/instructive) Animators try hard to convey the depth/volumes, even on simple designs, so that’s good references (and yes i’m a kameda simp)

- Pictures of real people !/Real people from real life !!

For studying poses, clothes etc ! (Super rough and not detailed sketches like these ↓ help me a lot ! Sports references are cool ! Try to stay concise, not too many details ! It will leave you more time to do even more studies, and it forces you to find the essential points and lines of what you want to draw !)

- Michel Lauricella’s Books !!!

Suuuuper useful !! Also always checking them at work ! (My books are at work so sending my studies as well 🙈)

As for the style, most of the series i work on have a « simple style » (i like it when there’s not too many lines because it’s easier and funnier to animate). So i’m used to it and it’s reflecting on my Azi and Crowley i think ! If you like my style i can recommend you to do studies from Ousama Ranking, Mob Pyscho, Sherlock Hound, Doraemon, The Gutsy Frog, (and many more haha) (also of course 80’s-90’s Aoyama Gosho’s works ! Magic Kaito, Late Yaiba/Early Detective Conan ! The expressions I draw are heaaaavily influenced by it, as it’s the first thing I actively studied)

I hope it gives you ideas to dig when you want to train a bit !

Thank you again for your kind message ! Have a nice day !!

[blueskittlesart]

What advice would you give beginner artists?

it's fine to want to do more stylized art, but nothing will help you improve quickly like studying from life. even if you want to draw very stylized figures, life drawing is still going to help you understand how the human body works and then you can build your stylization off of that understanding. I also recommend studying specifically things you're looking to improve--if you feel like your poses aren't dynamic, ask your model to do some quick (1-2 min) dynamic poses and work on getting the gesture down. if you're looking for anatomy, ask for longer, more static poses and really study the contours of the body. this also applies for portraiture and character art--my expressions and facial structure improved like CRAZY when i started doing portrait studies from life! (note: i know live model sessions aren't accessible for everyone. i'm a huge advocate for nude models, if you can find a studio nearby that's affordable to you that offers sessions, that's the best you're gonna get. however, there are sites that will give you photos of nude models to draw from, too, or you can even just ask friends or family to pose for you when they aren't busy, that's what i did before i started getting model sessions from my school!)

materials are not everything but sometimes a good material can make a difference. it's important to know what's worth it and what isn't for your skill level. invest in some decent-quality supplies or a good art program, but understand that you're still going to need to work to understand your materials and use them to their fullest potential. (if you're a digital artist buy csp. trust me on this. get it on sale. it will change your life. also do not fucking use photoshop)

tracing is ok. listen to me. TRACING. IS. OK. tracing is how you learn. don't trace other people's art and pass it off as your own, obviously, but there is literally no problem with tracing real-life reference photos. I routinely trace references for backgrounds and the like. there is no reason for you to kill yourself trying to make complex perspective and shit up from your head when you can very easily just overlay a photo and get what you need.

in that same vein, USE REFERENCE PHOTOS. find pics online or take pics of yourself and USE THEM to see how your poses work. it makes it SO SO SO much easier. the understanding that you need to create a pose out of nowhere will come with time but you're not going to get that skill unless you have a foundation of understanding how the real human body works, and the easiest way to get that understanding is by copying photos of real people.

last but not least, there's generally a sort of 'rulebook' that new artists are expected to go by, especially online, when it comes to digital art. when i was first learning, it was all about lineart and cell shading, two things that I didn't really like. Nowadays it seems to be all about rendering. the single most important thing i can tell you is if it sucks you don't have to do it. if you hate lineart just color your sketches. if you hate shading don't shade, or find a different way to shade that you enjoy more. if rendering is annoying or difficult for you DON'T BOTHER!! art is supposed to be fun. if part of your process is annoying or upsetting to you, cut it the fuck out. don't torture yourself just to do art the "right" way. i guarantee your art will look better when you're having fun making it anyway!

[twstfanblog]

(Little scene from Manhwa H (that's the one I'm on 🤣) @st4rz666

Little bit of the inner thoughts of Crewel. Kind of a bad dad, but like...nah I got nothing to defend him 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Also random OC name drop. He will appear in a lot of fics once I actually get around to him showing up.)

Divus hummed, eyeglasses on while he worked on a jacket he had gotten the idea for around lunch. While he adored his daughter, having her out of the house was a blessing. He and Dire didn't have to pretend to be in love and they could separate to do their own hobbies (or whatever one would call the nefarious deeds Dire got up to when no one was watching him). In the calm, quiet of the duchy, hand stitching in embroidery on a meter long tailcoat was just what Divus needed to unwind.

He held in a sigh when a servant announced to him that Yuu had returned from the Ashengrotto home. His puppy wasn't ready nor interested enough in embroidery to allow him to work on it, so into his work closet the jacket went. Once his office was cleared up, he waited patiently, knowing his daughter's first stop when coming home was to rush to him for a hug.

Hearing the door of his office open, he smiles seeing his puppy poke her adorable little head in, "Hello, my puppy! How was your-AH! WHO IS THAT!?"

Yuu beamed as she dragged a rag of child into the room. White and black hair that was stringy, a potato sack of a dress, and a dirty gaunt face with large bag heavy eyes, "Her name is Yu! She's my new friend!" She smiled to the child, giggling as she tried to smile back though clearly nervous.

Divus tried to hold in his sounds of...it was cruel, but disgust. He didn't like children, that was a fact he always knew about himself. He was lucky that when he was expected to produce an heir for the Crowley line, he at least found Yuu to be CUTE when she was born. A pleasing child was so much easier to learn to love than...whatever she had brought in.

He hums, stepping closer and eyeing the child, "Well...what family does she come from? I couldn't think of a noble house that'd allow their children to walk around as such..."

Yu wrung and pulled at her dress hem, mumbling her family's name under her breath.

"Speak up. I can't hear you."

She tried again, her nerves building under Divus's cold, calculating gaze. Voice trembling and soft, barely louder than before, "I...I'm Yu-"

"Speak!"

"Papa! You're scaring my friend! Knock it off!"

Trust his puppy to have a bark just as big as her bite.

Divus glanced at his daughter, a lecture on 'inside voices' dying on his tongue once he noticed the other child's expression.

Hollow eyes that held a flicker of hope, skinny hands gripping onto the soft flesh of his child's arm like it was a life line. The willingness to stand in her shadow for protection.

Admiration.

"..."Divus hummed, looking the child over once again before coming to a conclusion. Yuu could use a 'Yes-Girl'; someone to be on her side simply out of admiration. And with the proper care, this child could become a beauty in her own right. Divus would just have to add her into Yuu's beauty routines.

He smiles, kneeling before the two girls and pinching their cheeks, "Papa is so sorry, puppy. He'll be nicer to your friend. In fact, how does a sleepover sound? Your little friend can get a nice bath, a meal, and pick some of your pajamas to borrow for the night.

Both of the girl's eyes widen, beaming at Divus before Yuu cheers, "Thank you, Papa! I'm gonna show Yu my room so we can play! Call us when dinner is ready!"

Divus keeps his smile, waving at the two girls leaving his office before his expression drops into mild annoyance, "Of course my puppy manages to find a 'Robert' of her own..." he sighs, shaking his head and walking to his desk to open his sketch book to a new page, "I fear she'll be such a popular child..."

Divus was a social climber, a feat that he sacrificed his family name for. He sacrificed plenty to get where he was today, Robert's affections and friendship one of many. As he sketched, he wondered just how dear his child would become to this poor lost pup she had brought into their house...

[onewolfaday]

i absolutely adore the way you stylize wolves<333 theyre so simple yet expressive and the coats capture the detail so well- theyre also just so shape and your lineart is so loose and chunky /pos

would you ever do a tutorial or show some wips of your process? especially on how you stylize coats, i love the way you draw them-

if not, thats totally cool ofc!

thank you!!! :-) heres a little breakdown of my process + sort of a tutorial- i dont usually do art tutorials so im sorry if this doesnt make sense!!

a big inspiration for the way i pick colours for coats is actually this post by @/vhsdruid, so go check that out too ^_^

more specifically for wolves, there are a lot of pretty consistent features that most wolves share, like having a black tip on their tails and having countershading, so just knowing about those can make it a lot easier to simplify a coat. wolves also break down pretty easily into 3-4 colours with transitional shades between.

then all you have to do is break down the wolf into big colour blocks ^_^ ! it really doesnt have to be perfect, i mostly just make it up. i also add more colours in between because to me it always comes out looking like a husky when you have such clean distinctions of the pattern, but thats the gist.

that wolf i was using as an example was also the reference for wolf 048's coat! so you can tell how my coat stylization goes from blocks -> in between shades -> final :)

whenever i start a new wolf, i find a reference image i like for posing AND a reference image for a fun coat (like, for wolf 048, these were the reference images).

wolves also have this thing with their fur that makes it look like it has a Ton of variation in a small area which i sometimes stylize with wiggly lines, like this! vv

also, here's a speedpaint of wolf 048, and the sketch + raw lineart!!

im not really sure how helpful all that is, but im always open to answering any questions ppl have abt my art/tips for drawing wolves!! keep in mind im no expert haha (but, maybe by wolf 365, i will be?)

[toctua]

🥀 TOCTUA'S FRIENDS TO LOVERS [PART I] 🥀

🥀The acquaintance and then friendship of Tom and Noctua was an ordinary coincidence: a filled Hogwarts Express and the only almost empty compartment where she boarded. They are 11 and both of them are eager to see Hogwarts from the inside and learn its secrets.

🥀Tom thought that he would tolerate her for a while, especially since Noctua turned out to be a pureblood. young Tom was going to take EVERYTHING he needed out of her and leave her. But this did not happen.

🥀Noctua was surprisingly flexible and, what Tom liked most, knew how to keep secrets. He loved the way she ignored conversations that didn't concern her, losing herself in her own thoughts. He liked that she seemed not to notice his inclinations, apparently due to the fact that she grew up in a completely deserted place.

🥀The first time he opened up to her, it all turned into a search for his magical roots and the terrifying truth about his origins. Tom didn't seem to care at all that he and Noctua were second cousins, and she was confused. He took advantage of this too, putting pressure on pity little by little, forcing her to become more and more attached to him.

🥀They often hushed this up among themselves, until one day, as a joke, she began whispering to him in Parseltongue, saying all sorts of stupid things. It was such a boring day that Tom didn’t even notice how he picked up this fun from her. And this is just one of the little things that have been following them since that day.

🥀Thread by thread, their friendship grew stronger by connecting themselves with such seemingly trifles. Tom was sure that she was the only one he could truly trust. His blood. A piece of his puzzle that so perfectly fills in the missing pieces of the picture.

🥀And over time, their constant presence with each other became an integral part of Tom Riddle’s life. They explored the castle together, year after year, collecting bits and pieces of knowledge that was not taught at Hogwarts. They studied everything inside and out, but working as a team this always seemed not enough.

🥀And when Noctua became seriously ill (in the fifth year of Hogwarts), and Tom remained separated from her, something inside him grated unpleasantly. Although he had followers, he missed the feeling of her walking side by side with him. For the first month, he came to see her in the hospital wing, until Noctua was sent to St. Mungo's for 3 long months.

🥀It seemed to Tom that a chink had appeared in his armor. It was as if he was walking with his back bare, into which the gun was constantly pointed. He missed this carelessness and the confidence that Tom felt next to her. He decided to fight this caustic feeling.

🥀This was the year they wanted to find the Basilisk, and Tom set out to do it alone, to prove to himself that Noctua was not so important. He definitely got carried away, so much so that half-giant Hagrid was eliminated and poor Moaning Myrtle died. Tom liked it, it wasn’t perfect, his hands were still shaking nervously, and something clearly clicked in his head.

🥀Noctua returned to school. She noticed changes in Tom, it was not difficult to guess that something had happened. He became emotional in front of her, swore that everything had happened so suddenly, he thought the toilet was empty, and then… His voice trembled… And she believed. He got away with all this theater so easily. Noctua was exhausted from dragon pox and Riddle happily took advantage of this.

p/s/ omg I'm so sorry this is taking so long. I have already written the full text, but I have one more illustration to do. I'm currently overloaded with my hyperfixes and therefore I'm taking on everything a little bit at a time… I hope the second part won't take much time…

I know it's not perfect, but I tried to convey their relationship as best I could. It was much easier to do this from Tom's perspective, since the previous sketches from Noctua's perspective were slightly chaotic and did not give a complete picture of the canon…

[honey-words]

spider boy promises — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis: you’re spider-man’s neighbor, his friend. but there’s still secrets between the two of you, ones he refuses to share and ones you’re too scared to ask about in fear of him leaving. so they sit between you, festering and threatening to spill over. patched up and kept at bay by promises that might be left unfulfilled. PART 1 HERE

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, angst

wc: 1.3k

author’s note: part 2 of the spider boy series. thanks for all the love <3

You hold his hand until he falls asleep, brush away his tears. You cannot bring yourself to let go of even long after his breathing has evened out, after his face has melted to a more peaceful expression. His furrowed eyebrows smoothed out, lips almost tilted into a smile.

Midoriya started sleeping over more often, especially on days when he was not out patrolling and coming back to his quiet apartment bloody and bruised, patching himself up because he did not want to worry you. Even though you had insisted you did not mind, that you wanted to help him.

When you wake up, he is usually gone. In his place, you find a new spider sketch on your kitchen table. You had started a small collection, hanging them up on your fridge with the unused magnets that had been waiting for a purpose ever since you had moved in.

Knowing he would be gone in the morning meant you stared at him until sleep made your eyes heavy and took him away from you.

You fight it off as long as you can. But when the morning sun shines in your eyes and wakes you up, you realize your bed is still warm. And his hand is still in yours.

“You stayed?” You asked before you even opened your eyes. Maybe this was a dream. A cruel dream where you were both free to stay under the covers all day, away from harm and the burdens of being a busy student and beloved vigilante.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s Saturday.”

You opened your eyes at that. Saturday.

On Saturdays, Midoriya hardly went out. Police presence tended to be stronger, and he only went out if he was continuing something, following a lead, or if there was an emergency. That much he had shared with you, that much you knew.

Selfishly, you loved Saturdays.

He smiled at you when your eyes met his. “Is it okay that I stayed?”

You nodded.

His smile faltered, and he reached up to poke your cheek. “Promise?”

You smiled at his action. “Promise.”

You realized you had never lied to him before. Could he say the same about you?

The morning was spent inside, in pajamas, avoiding your phones and reminders of upcoming assignments. Moony slept on Midoriya’s lap all through breakfast, and as you made pancakes for the both of you, you could hear him quietly cooing over her, whispering what a good cat she was.

Really. It was impossible for you not to develop feelings for him. You angrily flipped a pancake, exhaling through your nose strongly. This would be easier if your feelings were nonexistent.

He was no better later in the day, during your TV show catch-up time. Moony was off somewhere napping, so he seemed to seek a replacement. Something to do with his hands. An arm wrapped around your shoulder, a hand reaching for yours. His fingers idly traced your knuckles, intertwining with yours over and over. His eyes never left the TV screen.

You were a mess. You could feel your palms starting to sweat, but Midoriya either did not notice or chose not to mention it. So you melted into his touch, leaning onto his chest and watching the TV show you watched together, letting him play with your hand.

By the third episode, you had your head in his lap and he was braiding your hair.

“Your hair smells nice,” he said from above you. You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks.”

He hummed a response. You let your eyes close, the TV serving as the perfect background noise to pair with the soothing motions of Midoriya braiding your hair. You let sleep overtake you this time, welcomed it. He would be there when you woke up.

——— * * * ———

When you woke up a few hours later, you knew something is off.

You were in the same exact position, but the room was darker, the lights never turned on. You turned, adjusting yourself until you were facing the ceiling and Midoriya.

He was wearing his suit, mask still on. “Midoriya?” you asked. Patting his thigh frantically when he did not respond. “Midoriya?”

You sat up, the hand that was resting in your hair falling limp into his lap. You grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little, a lump forming in your throat and your eyes becoming blurry with tears. “Midoriya wake up. Midoriya Izuku wake the fu—” you break off with a startled gasp when he stirs, groaning.

“Y/N?”

“Thank god,” you said, pulling him forward and hugging him. “You scared me, you little shit.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling off his mask, nuzzling his face into your neck, and wrapping his arms around you to tighten the hug. “Got back really tired.”

You sighed, idly running a hand through his hair. “You’re okay?”

You felt him nod, and then could actually feel him smile into your skin. “Did you use the full name card on me?”

You tugged at his hair, earning a surprised yelp. “It worked, didn’t it?”

He laughed, pulling away. Your smile fell the second you saw his face.

There were tear steaks cutting through a thin layer of dirt, and you watch as another falls and trails down his cheek. You wiped the other away and smiled sadly at him. “Need help getting to your place?”

He shook his head. “I’m okay.”

Liar. You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from saying it. You forced another smile and stood up. “Okay, then you can shower here. Chance for you to use my shampoo since you like it so much.”

The second you heard the shower turn on you opened your Spider-News tab and started scrolling, looking for any clues. It had become a horrible habit, but you could not help it. Your search was unsuccessful, though. There was no breaking news for you to discover, no sighting of Spider-Man at all that day.

So where the hell was he going?

——— * * * ———

You asked him three days later, when you found him curled up outside your bedroom door with Moony on a Tuesday morning. After making sure he was okay you scolded him for scaring you, and he was so ashamed he refused to meet your gaze.

“Didn’t wanna wake you up,” he yawned. He was not hurt, but the bags under his eyes were more defined. “Moony kept me company.” An unhelpful meow from Moony, which you ignored. She spoiled him too much.

He insisted on making you breakfast before you left for class, and knowing he would keep insisting if you did not back down, you let him. You kept a watchful eye on him as he made your eggs, making sure he was wincing with certain movements or limping. But he looked perfectly fine.

“Where’d you go?”

His back was turned away from you, so you could not see his expression. You were not sure if you preferred that.

“Out patrolling,” he said, turning the stove off and moving your eggs to a plate. “Following a lead.”

He sat down and ate with you, refusing to meet your gaze.

“Why can’t you tell me?” If you were going to ask, might as well push as much as you could.

“I want to,” he said, setting down his fork and finally looking up. His eyes were dull with weariness. None of the bright energy usually in them to be seen. “But it’s too dangerous right now.”

“Are you being safe?” you said, trying hard to keep your voice from shaking.

He nodded. “Promise.”

Was he lying again?

“Okay. I trust you.”

Did you?

You stayed awake as long as you could that night, but you never heard him come back to his apartment, and he was not outside your bedroom door when you woke up the next morning either. You scrabbled to get dressed and rushed to the library, but every step you took away from your apartment filled your stomach with more and more dread.

He was not at your usual spot at the library. And you knew he would not be waiting in your kitchen when you got back.

So where the hell was he?

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