#and I should really draw him in a different angle with a a different expression fr fr

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

BLOCK ME OUT

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: haunted by her ex’s cruel words, y/n wishes she could block herself out. but rafe sees her differently—like she hung the stars in the sky.

based on this ask !! thank you for this anon, apologies that it’s taken so long, but i hope it’s what you asked for and you enjoy it :) <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: appearance insecurities, angsty with a soft ending, soft!rafe, rafe thinking violent thoughts (nothing unusual😝), past emotionally/verbally abusive relationship (reader’s ex), crying, cursing, allusions to sex. (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, eyes tracing the features she had long since memorised yet never quite accepted. The fluorescent light above cast harsh shadows, making every perceived flaw stand out even more—the uneven texture of her skin, the way her cheeks seemed too full in certain angles but too hollow in others, the faint blemishes she could never quite cover no matter how much makeup she wore. Her fingers ghosted over her jawline, then moved to her lips, hesitating as if debating whether they were too thin or too full.

She sighed, dropping her hand and looking away. It didn’t matter. It never did.

“Y/N?”

Rafe’s voice echoed from the hallway, warm and familiar. He must have noticed how long she had been in here. She took a breath and composed herself before stepping out, her lips pulling into a small, forced smile.

“Hey,” she said casually.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with that soft yet unreadable expression he sometimes had when he thought she wasn’t looking. His blue eyes flickered over her face, taking in every detail as if memorising it. She knew he was about to say something—probably a compliment, because he always did. And just like always, she prepared to ignore it.

“You look beautiful,” Rafe murmured, almost absentmindedly, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

Y/N scoffed quietly, shaking her head as she crossed the room. “No, I don’t.”

Rafe frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in concern, but he didn’t argue. He never did. Instead, he just watched as she climbed into bed beside him, her body curling up instinctively, as if trying to take up less space. He noticed that too.

It had started small, the little deflections. The way she would dismiss any compliment he gave her with a wave of her hand or a disbelieving laugh. At first, he assumed she was just being humble, but the more time he spent with her, the more he realized it was something else.

Something deeper.

A wound that hadn’t healed.

Rafe didn’t push. He didn’t ask. But he noticed.

Like the way her smile always faltered for just a second when someone called her pretty, as if the word physically pained her. Or how she always changed the subject when he told her she was beautiful, shifting the conversation so quickly it was almost seamless. If he wasn’t paying such close attention, he might’ve missed it.

But he was always paying attention.

Y/N knew she should appreciate Rafe’s compliments, knew that he wasn’t just saying them to be nice. But she couldn’t make herself believe them. Not after everything.

Not after him.

Her ex’s voice still lingered in the back of her mind like a ghost, whispering cruel words she could never quite erase.

“You really think you’re all that? God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure it’s pathetic.”

“I don’t know why you even bother with makeup—it doesn’t help.”

“No one’s looking at you the way you think they are. You’re just… average.”

She had spent so much time believing those words, internalising them, letting them take root deep inside her until they became an unshakable truth. And now, even though he was gone, even though she had someone like Rafe in her life—someone who looked at her like she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen—she still couldn’t silence that voice.

Rafe had never once made her feel anything less than wanted. He never criticised, never made offhanded comments that chipped away at her self-worth. But that didn’t mean she knew how to accept kindness when it was given to her.

She felt his fingers brush lightly against her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“You tired?” he asked, voice low and gentle.

She nodded, grateful for the easy out. “Yeah. Just a long day.”

Rafe didn’t question it. He just reached over and pulled the blanket up over her, as if shielding her from whatever weight she was carrying. And maybe in his own way, he was.

She turned onto her side, facing away from him, but she could still feel his gaze on her, feel the warmth of his presence beside her.

For a moment, she let herself pretend that it was enough.

—

The night had started out perfectly.

Dinner was casual, nothing extravagant—just the two of them at his place, sitting across from each other, laughing between bites of food. It had been easy. Light. Y/N had almost felt normal, like the weight of her insecurities wasn’t pressing so hard against her ribs.

Rafe had been extra touchy that evening—his fingers brushing hers when he handed her a glass of wine, his palm resting at the small of her back as they moved through the house. Small touches, each one sending a shiver down her spine.

And now, here they were.

Y/N lay beneath him, the world shrinking to just the two of them, just the warmth of his body and the way his lips moved against hers like he couldn’t get enough. His hands skimmed her sides, slow and teasing, as if memorising every inch of her.

The air in the room had thickened, charged with something electric.

She should’ve been lost in it.

But she wasn’t.

Because the moment his fingers hooked under the hem of her shirt, inching it up over her ribs, that voice came creeping back.

“You think he really wants to see you?”

“You think he won’t notice how bad you look from this angle?”

“God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure, it’s pathetic.”

She tensed.

Rafe noticed immediately.

His lips paused against her neck, and she felt his breath, felt the slight hesitation in his movements. “You okay?” he murmured, voice laced with concern.

Y/N forced a nod, forcing herself to push through it. Don’t ruin this. Don’t overthink it. Just let him love you.

But then his hands moved again, slipping beneath the fabric, and panic surged through her like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, she wasn’t here anymore. She was back in that old apartment, standing under fluorescent lighting as her ex tilted his head and examined her with a critical gaze.

“Your stomach isn’t as flat as you think.”

“I mean, yeah, you look good from the right angle, but not always.”

“Don’t get mad. I’m just being honest.”

Her breath hitched. The room felt smaller. Her chest ached.

She didn’t even realise she was shaking until Rafe pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn’t place. “Talk to me, baby.”

But she couldn’t.

Because she was already spiralling.

She shoved at his chest lightly, needing space, needing air. And Rafe—sweet, perceptive Rafe—moved immediately, sitting back on his heels, giving her exactly what she needed. But even with the distance, she couldn’t breathe right.

“I—I can’t do this,” she choked out, her throat tightening. “I just—I don’t—”

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. She felt pathetic, completely unravelling in front of him over something so stupid.

But Rafe didn’t move, didn’t rush her. He just watched her, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to piece together what had broken.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her breaths coming faster. “I just—” Her voice cracked, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t feel good enough for you.”

The confession slipped out before she could stop it, and suddenly, the dam broke.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands, ashamed of how easily she was falling apart.

“Y/N…”

She felt the mattress dip as Rafe moved closer, but he didn’t touch her. He just waited.

Waited for her to speak.

Waited for her to let him in.

She sniffled, wiping at her tears, but more came. “I—I don’t get how you could look at me like you do,” she whispered. “I don’t get how you could actually—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “How you could actually want this.”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, confusion and pain flashing across his face. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a wet, bitter laugh. “I see myself, Rafe. I see what I look like from different angles. I know what people see.”

Rafe was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “You don’t know what I see.”

She swallowed hard. “I just—” Her voice trembled. “I worry that… that you’re not actually attracted to me. That you just think you are.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick.

And then, softly, carefully, Rafe asked, “Why do you think that?”

She exhaled shakily, dropping her gaze.

She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to open that box. But he deserved to know.

“My ex,” she finally whispered. “He… he made sure I knew what was wrong with me. All the time.”

Rafe went rigid.

She saw it—the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. He inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm, but she could see the fire behind his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and steady, like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. “Tell me what he said to you.”

Her throat felt tight, but she forced the words out. “He told me I wasn’t as pretty as I thought. That my body wasn’t as nice as I thought. That I only looked good from certain angles.” Her voice cracked. “And I believed him.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, looking away, his hands gripping the sheets like he was barely holding himself together. She could see the anger simmering beneath his skin, the way he wanted to break something, to scream, to hurt the person who had done this to her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned back to her, and when he spoke again, his voice was full of something even stronger than rage.

Love.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “I need you to listen to me.”

She swallowed hard, nodding weakly.

He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And not just from certain angles. Always.”

She tried to look away, but he didn’t let her.

“You think I don’t notice the way you brush off my compliments? The way you never believe me when I tell you how fucking perfect you are?” His voice wavered slightly, but he kept going. “It kills me, Y/N. It kills me that someone made you feel like this. That someone convinced you that you weren’t enough.”

More tears welled in her eyes. “Rafe…”

“No.” His voice was raw now, his emotions spilling over. “You are everything to me. Everything. And I don’t just want you—I crave you. Every part of you. Every inch of you. I don’t care what angle, what lighting, what bullshit insecurity you think you have—I love all of it. Because it’s you.”

Her lip trembled. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You are enough. You are more than enough.”

She broke.

Sobs wracked her body, and Rafe pulled her into his arms, holding her like he would never let go. He whispered into her hair, his voice soothing and warm, telling her over and over again how perfect she was, how much he loved her, how much she meant to him.

And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to believe him.

Because when Rafe Cameron looked at her, he didn’t see flaws. He didn’t see imperfections.

He saw the stars.

And maybe, just maybe, she could learn to see them too.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a cute and emotional one :’) i had this written up before i went away but finally got to editing it, just spending eh next couple days editing and posting the requests in my drafts !!

i hope this is what you asked for anon !! and as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) don’t hesitate to request <3

[iscdisc]

This is a 2012 take I've had for a while now, and I'm so happy I made art about it today because I genuinely love talking about it !! 🗣️

This isn't meant to be 2012 Leo slander whatsoever, because I adore him and don't think he's terrible or anything (He's literally my favorite pick for the 2012 Turtles-) ! But I do feel that he admittedly had a lot of poor leadership moments at times (Especially in late Season 3 to Season 4- 💀), and I feel like a lot of the burden of having things accessible / ready / or even remotely feasible in order to have Leo's plans actually work out fell on Donnie. Without much appreciation or acknowledgment of that fact from Leo or anyone else for that matter.

I feel like if any of the brothers had a right to argue with Leo about leadership or how things were being run under him, it should have been Donnie, because Donnie had more than enough of a leg to stand on for that argument. I'm not trying to invalidate Raph's feelings or perspective, because I'm not saying I don't understand the angle of him being upset about Leo's blatant favoritism when it came to their Father and that being a big reason why he was so obstinate with Leo- But that aside, I don't feel like he had much of an argument to make when it came to presenting himself as a better option as far as leadership-?? I get retconning canon and that this could've just been the writers depicting Raph in a way that some of you may disagree with, but if we're basing this opinion on the Season 1 episode, "New Girl In Town", we can clearly see that he wasn't very well equipped to fill that role in the way that Leo was. And speaking of that particular episode, it was actually Donnie who stepped up when things were getting really bad with Snakeweed in the sewers- 👀

This is why I depict Raph in this scenario accepting this outcome and not being super defensive or acting like he should be included in the conversation, because I kind of have him admit that he wasn't the best at it-!

I'm also sorry, because there was so much more I wanted to draw, and instead of being able to show those things I'm just going to say them here-! For example, Splinter's involvement in the situation. I pretty much don't have him do anything about the unanimous vote, because in his eyes, this team's dynamic / structure is this team's business and he doesn't really have a place to say whether or not they change who leads the team. Sure he chose Leo in the beginning, but if they decide to come to a different decision, they're fully in the right to do that. So Leo couldn't exactly get Splinter to come to his defense,, 👍 || I also wanted to show more of Donnie and Leo both being pretty content with this new dynamic change after a while ! I somewhat got to explore that with the last image of Leo being able to fully explore his hobby / interest in astronomy, but I also wanted to show Donnie feeling very fulfilled and respected within this group of siblings and friends now that he is the team leader, with that being really satisfying for him ! || I also wanted to show Donnie having his first leader breakdown post the Kraang Invasion of Season 2, with Leo comforting him at the Farmhouse and expressing empathy having been in his position many many times before,, He just never really told his brothers about it because he didn't want them to worry and he honestly felt ashamed for breaking down so much,, <:/

Also, you know I can't resist putting 2012 Jonatello in everything I make, so of course this is going to have Jonatello moments too ! I just didn't get around to it yet- One of those things was going to be Casey becoming the second mechanic in the group in order to take off some of the work load on Donnie since now he's juggling even more than he used to-! The way Casey expresses not only concern but so much support for Donnie gives Donnie butterflies, okay- 👀💜🖤✨ Lmao

I guess the last thing I'll mention is kind of April's role and everything, since I want her to join Mikey in encouraging Leo to really explore himself as an individual now that he doesn't have to be defined by the leadership role anymore ! She's very supportive of him just being able to be himself and figure that out during this time ! But I also wanted her to better explain to Leo why she also agreed with this leadership change, since I can see him feeling a little betrayed by her. With Leo most likely assuming that she would have tried to reason with Donnie or get him to see a different side of the situation. I wanted to be very clear that she did not agree with Donnie because she felt bad for him or because of the weird crush he had on her and she didn't know how to be honest with him, etc. etc., you know what I mean? 👍✨

[narfin-frood]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your art, and I just wanted to know, did you study the WOY art style? I'm asking because the way you draw each character, Hater especially, is so expressive! Do you have any tips with expressions? Thank you!

thank you so much!! and to kinda answer your question: while what i do is, technically, studying, that's not what it feels like. i genuinely just enjoy looking at character sheets. a lot of the time they'll include little notes about things you wouldn't think about unless you're told to, like wander's eyes typically angling towards each other at the bottom or sylvia's eyes obscuring the full width of her neck.

(i have any one of these open in my reference panel almost always! not only are these full of tips & tricks for your everyday sketching, they're full of rules for each character, which are meant to be broken in interesting and fun ways.)

[im gonna pack a bunch of other, tangentially related tips and tricks and thoughts into the readmore, including my personal breakdown of hater's expressions specifically, so feel free to give it a click. long post ahead]

a lot of stuff can be picked up by just watching the cartoon as many times as you want. i have watched every episode (minus big fucking baby episode, which i hate) like 6 times over, sometimes more (looking at you the rager), and that has definitely solidified my wander over yonder visual library.

also, wander over yonder's art style already fits in with the way i draw, because i LOVEE long curvy lines and super crisp & clear silhouettes!!

as for why/how i get hater so expressive.... that mainly has to do with the fact that i think he's So Cute. He's So Cute and i wanna Squash Him. and his character design reflects that!!!

his hood is his eyebrow and his eyes may or may not be rolling around in their sockets, and his nose is a little upside down heart. but all of the lord hater emotion is stored in the chin. lord hater has a bunch of specific and VERY malleable options for mouth shapes, depending on what makes the expression and lipsync look clearest.

you can keep it super simple, with a clear divide between his top and bottom jaw, and do several round bumps for teeth, which they do a lot when tweening, like this:

this kind of seems to be his default state, depending heavily on the episode and when it was made and who was drawing him the most, of course.

you can also keep his jaw and skull distinct, but keep his teeth straight and flush with each other, which helps for sharper expressions, esp. anger or frustration, but can also work for a good "squee". he also sometimes pouts so hard his chin eats his mouth, which is, again, cute.

if you're having trouble keeping an expression clear while also maintaining the distinction between his jaw and the rest of his skull, it's pretty common also to forego most of the overt skeleton bits, save for a few hatch marks to indicate teeth (sometimes squiggles or bumps, when he's yelling about it). in my head i affectionately refer to this style of hater expression as the "peanut sans"

none of these convey the intensity of emotion you're looking for? fear not, you can also always just go Full Skeleting. and give his teeth a full outline. this is great for Pain and Strain and Nefariousness.

and then there are a million expressions in between and possibilities within these parameters beyond your wildest belief. nothing should hold you back from a really fucked-up lord hater expression. not proportion. not structure. ESPECIALLY not symmetry. please. make his chin bigger. make his head bigger. make one eye bigger. make him look in two different directions. scrunch his nose up. whatever it takes. by all means. i implore you to have fun

(honorable mention. his W face. the face when he says the consonant W. sometimes OO. i'm. obsessed. with it . he looks. kity)

anyway. lord hater tangent aside. i could also share my own process for expressions, but it really just hinges on what looks appealing/what i like the most/what communicates the emotion i want to communicate the clearest, and it varies between characters and people.

it helps to, again, build your visual library, and look at lots and lots of funny faces, both in real life and in cartoons you like. make funny faces in the mirror and try to focus on what parts of your face change shape or interact with other parts of your face when you do something like smile really wide or drop your jaw. your skin is taut, and there's a bunch of muscle and fat attached to your bones, so when one big bone moves, a bunch of muscles and fat under the surface will shift around too, and understanding that relationship is really helpful in the long run, both for drawing real people and for drawing cartoons.

and the easiest way to retain information like that is to have fun while you study. stop thinking of it as studying and start thinking of it as gathering information on this thing you like a lot and want to do more of, like when you scroll through someone's account to look at all their art, and just. do more of that. do more exploring and observing. since animation is my special interest, this part is pretty easy for me, but it does still take practice to get into that mindset, especially when you convince yourself you have to be super strict and rigid to make it in the art world. focus on drawing and observing what makes YOU happy first, and everything else will follow.

and don't worry about taking notes. don't worry about remembering everything you look at. just look at things you like, and think about them for longer than you usually would. think about the shapes and colors. what makes that drawing so darn appealing to you, besides subject matter and the vague concept of an "artstyle"? you'll be surprised just how abstract what appeals to you can be. for me, with expressions especially, it comes down to random shit like "i like when the edge of a character's mouth creates a tangent with the outline of their head" instead of "pretty eyes" or other, vaguer elements. and that shit i like becomes a part of my artstyle, but only when it fits in and looks appealing, because you can't do stuff like this in every single drawing & retain a full range of expression

ANYway. i hope this made some sense/helped at least a little. i like lord hater a lot. and i also like to draw

[tibbycaps]

Do you know have any tips on how to draw a comic? As in simple style and easy to draw and consistent in redraw? I love your style and I can't help but wonder how you got here and if you could help. Thank you

okay sorry i left this in the inbox for a bit because. where to start lol! there's a lot of thought that can go into making comics i think. but i believe you're specifically asking about having a consistent art style and being able to draw the same character a lot over and over again, so i'll try to focus on that

i think a lot of consistency is just playing around with character designs and getting something you feel comfortable with. ill use grian as a good example because it took me a while to come up with a grian design that i liked. once i liked it, i was able to draw my grian a lot & very consistently. every time you draw a character, even if it's a little doodle, you gain that muscle memory for ur lines a little better, so you should doodle always as much as you can and never be afraid to try something new and experiment with your style

the pipeline

i think a good way to establish a character design that you really like to draw & can familiarize yourself with is by defining some key features about them. like in this image for example, my older grian designs don't really have anything about them that stands out to me. he wasn't rlly that fun to draw. but nowadays i think i have a distinct hairstyle & expression & glasses shape i give him, which are fun to draw. even if it's a tiny doodle with like, 15 strokes, you can still identify it as my grian design i think

something that i noticed (i didn't consciously do this but it just sort of happened as i was trying to make them all look different from one another) is that i assign different shapes to grian, cub and scar. these guys are good examples because 1. they're the three characters in my hotguy comics part and 2. they're the three guys i draw the most often

grian i tend to go for more rounded shapes, cub more squares/rectangles, and scar is more pointy and triangular. little things like this can help them stand out from one another and makes them fun to draw in my opinion. when i draw grian's hair i always have the hair come to a rounded point and is more neat/tidy. when i draw scar the hair is more spiky and wild. cub is sort of in the middle where his hair is more pointy, but is kept neat, which gives it those straight lines and right angles

TL;DR how i draw characters easily and consistently is make key features & shapes that make them fun to both draw & look at. and then draw them a lot

i hope that makes any sense, i like yapping about character design so hope you don't mind the long response lol ^_^

[blessedbyahuntress]

Two Demigods and a Goddess

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Daughter!of!Hades!Reader

Warnings: I don't think so

Word Count: 1.9k

You dipped your feet in the water, sighing as it cooled your skin. 

The sun shone down on your face, blinding you as you slipped your hoodie off; it was too hot to be wearing extra layers.

You traced the lines that had been engraved into the rock beside you with your knife- your only possession when you were sentenced to this island. Twenty four lines, twenty four months, or two years, if you preferred. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of light. You turned your head toward it and frowned, puzzled. Another innocent girl coming to join you in Ogygia? 

You decided not to dwell on it, instead taking your dagger out of its sheath. You angled yourself back to the rock to draw a few more images. Calypso would tell you if anything major happened while you were away.

After all, nothing really happened often on this isle. Usually.

At least, that’s what you thought until you heard Calypso practically scream, “what are you doing? You blew up my dining table!”

“Great,” you muttered, rising to your feet. You slipped on your sandals, speed walking to the shore of the island. 

~

You stayed in the shadows, watching your best friend sassily argue with a short, curly haired Latino. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He said. You could tell that he already disliked Calypso. “I just fell out of the sky. I constructed a helicopter in midair, burst into flames halfway down, and barely survived. But by all means- let’s talk about your dining table!”

“Who puts a dining table on the beach where innocent demigods can crash into it?” He continued. “Who does that?”

Calypso clenched her fists, looking about ready to march down to the Latino and punch him in the face. 

Before she could do anything of the sort, you emerged from the shadows, compliments from your father. 

“Well, well, well,” you said, strolling up to the pair. “What do we have here, Calypso?”

She snorted. “No one important, as you can see.”

You tsked. “You should at least ask his name, before you label him as ‘not important’.”

The boy beamed at you. “Why, thank you, Sunshine!” He looked you up and down. “I must say- loving the outfit, too. Sandals with cargo pants? I don’t know a lot of people who could pull that off.”

You raised your eyebrows, slipping your sunglasses back over your eyes. “The one thing I’ll allow you to label him as, without asking his name, is annoying.”

The boy raised a hand to his chest, acting like he was wounded. “Oh, how your words hurt me, Sunshine! But your gloomy aesthetic isn’t fooling me any time soon!”

You scowled and turned to Calypso. “This’ll be tough,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “He’s by far not as attractive as Odysseus nor Percy, and he’s rather annoying. How do we get him out of here?”

“Tell you what.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’ll take him to my side of the island. And maybe, just maybe, I can build something that’ll get him out of here.”

Calypso gave a small nod, relief overtaking her features as she slowly walked back toward the winding trail which led to her home. You watched her go until she was out of sight. 

Turning to the boy, you said, “what’s your name?”

He got up, and you realized he was clutching an odd-looking sphere. You raised your eyebrows as he stumbled out of the wreckage of Calypso’s dining table.

“Leo,” he answered. “Leo Valdez.”

You gestured to a different footpath a bit of a walk away from the one Calypso had run off to. “Alright, Valdez. Follow me, don’t ask any stupid questions, and I’ll make you as comfortable as I can. If you ask me anything along the lines of, “who are you?” or, “Why are you here?” I’ll skewer you.”

You grinned at his slightly uneasy expression before stalking off into the woods. 

~

Leo found you the next day.

You were wandering the shores of Ogygia, fiddling with a black ring that had been gifted to you from Hades. 

You jumped when the Latino from the day before tapped you on the shoulder.

You turned the skull on your ring toward the left, the simple piece of jewelry enlarging into a stygian iron dagger. The blade found its place under his chin in one swift movement. 

He yelped.

“Oh,” you said, sounding rather disappointed. “It’s just you.”

Leo released a breath. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Just me.”

You rolled your eyes, removing the knife from his neck. “I mean just you as in, ‘oh, it’s an annoying boy who I unfortunately am not allowed to decapitate yet, though it would be fun to do so.’.” 

He blinked, and you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes, Valdez? What do you want?”

Leo blinked again, trying to ignore the strong scent of your perfume. It smelled so good. 

“Valdez?”

He realized he’d been staring at you, and had to rip his gaze away. “Uhm,” he said. 

You quirked an eyebrow.

He felt his mouth get dry as he tried to remember what he’d come to ask you for. Gods, why did you have to apply your makeup much better than you had yesterday?

“Uh… I-You.” Leo could tell you were growing impatient. “Do you have any scrap metals?” He blurted.

You barked a laugh, and Leo found himself loving the sound of it. 

“Of course I have scrap metal!” You exclaimed. “For gods sake, I have a whole forge!”

This earned you another blink from Leo. 

You grabbed his wrist, dragging him to the cave a few feet away.

Stopping in front of the entrance, you announced, “this is my home. You’re welcome here, but only, and I repeat only, to ask a question, grab food, or use the forge. You still get to sleep outside.”

“Yippee!” Leo remarked sarcastically. 

You scowled at him, dropping his forearm. Gesturing farther into the cave, you started retreating back into the sunlight. 

“You’ll find everything prepped and ready for use,” you told him before vanishing from his sight.

~

You hadn’t returned that night. Nor the night after that one. 

Leo hadn’t even thought about it until you showed up holding a basket of grapes and a loaf of bread.

“Valdez.”

He glanced up and nearly smashed his thumb with his hammer; he’d forgotten how utterly breathtaking you were. 

“You haven’t eaten in two days,” you said, frowning. “You need to take a break, Leo.”

It was the first time Leo had heard you use his first name instead of ‘Valdez’, and he tried to ignore the fact that he wanted you to say it more often.

“Two days?” He asked.

You nodded seriously before snorting. You moved to grab his hand before he could bash his thumb with his hammer. 

Your touch burned. In fact, it seemed like his skin was still on fire from where you’d grabbed his wrist earlier in the week. He tried to ignore the sensation, having to focus on the food in your other hand instead. He didn’t find this to be a very difficult task, considering that he was starved. 

You took the hammer from Leo’s hand gently, setting it off to the side. 

Satisfied that he would stop and eat, you gestured to the table a few feet away. “Sit with me, Valdez. Let’s eat.”

Once properly situated- Leo sitting like a normal human being, while you put your feet up on the table- you ripped off a chunk of bread for yourself, offering the rest of the loaf to the boy next to you.

He took it as you chewed your piece with a thoughtful expression. 

“I think I’m ready to tell you about myself,” you decided.

Leo, who was apparently trying to see how many grapes he could feet in his mouth without choking, froze.

You tilted your chin up, avoiding his gaze as you said, “i’m Y/N L/N, daughter of-”

“Hades,” Leo finished. “Variable of the Battle of Manhattan, assassin for hire, most deadly and unpredictable demigod in the world.” He released a breath. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you.” 

Your gaze flickered to him, surprised when you didn’t see what you were expecting; Leo’s eyes meeting yours, understanding, curiosity, and perhaps admiration in the depths of his stare. 

“Don’t you… hate me?” You couldn’t help but ask in a hushed voice. 

Leo frowned. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”

“Because…” You struggled with an answer. 

The boy beside you rose to his feet, taking both of your hands in his. “Y/N, I don’t think I could ever hate you for anything, much less the things you had to do.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek. The only other person who’d reacted like this had been… no one, actually. “I-I-” You stammered. “I don’t know what to say.”

Leo gave you a small smile. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know what I say is true.”

You found yourself looking to the entrance of the cave. You stood abruptly, dragging the Latino boy after you as you ran to the beach. 

“Whoa!” He yelped. “Y/N, what’re you…”

He trailed off as he saw the raft that awaited on the shore. 

“Hurry!” You said, tugging him toward the raft. “I don’t know how long it will stay!”

“But…” Leo found himself not able to finish that sentence as you glared at him over your shoulder.

“Come on, Valdez!” You cried. “Move! It’s supposed to take you where you want to go, but the island’s magic is obviously unstable! You have to rig up your guidance device to navigate!”

You continued to sprint to the raft, Leo behind you; he’d snapped out of his daze when he realized you had grabbed the console from the other table beside the forge. 

You and Leo worked in sync, stepping back once you were sure everything was situated correctly. 

“Go,” you said, stepping off of the raft. You inched back a bit when Leo hopped off too. 

He grabbed your hand again, and you stared down at your intertwined fingers. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“You have to.” You cursed yourself for how heartbroken you sounded.

“Then, once the war is over, I'll come back to you.”

“Leo-”

“I know that no man has ever landed here twice, but I have to. I’ll find a way, Y/N. If it’s the last thing I-”

You lurched forward and placed your lips on his.

Leo’s brain seemed to have short-circuited. He stood there for a moment, unsure if this was real, if you were real- ‘cus it sure as hell felt like he was dreaming.

Then he closed his eyes, hands finding a place on your waist. 

You pulled away far too soon, in Leo’s opinion.

“Go,” you repeated, stepping away.

“Okay.”

“And don’t give me any empty promises.”

“Okay.”

Leo stepped back onto the raft, not sure if it was salt water or tears running down his cheeks. 

He looked back at Ogygia, only to find it was only a spec in the distance now.

You had said not to give you any empty promises. And he wouldn’t. 

He’d give you his vow.

“I’m coming back to you, Y/N,” he whispered. “I swear it on the River Styx.”

[hybbart]

This is perhaps a strange question, but do you have the sketch/lineart/framework/whatever the heck it's called that you use when you draw Tango? I decided I want to learn to draw, and my thought process was, "Ah yes, the easiest way is to try and copy my favourite Tangos cause I know how they look," and it is going... poorly xD.

Alternatively, do you have any advice on how to learn and develop a style, or how to get/keep going?

A reference sheet? I have a couple various ones, though at this point i don't really use a reference unless I need to sample colours, and I'm currently working on a colour reference for myself. Besides the point I suppose... I'll put them at the very bottom of the cut so scroll right past my ramblings if you want to.

As for advice. My advice is do not try developing a style if you are just starting out. style is the last thing that should be on your mind if you're just starting out. Style is something that happens naturally as you grow and learn what you like and get used to your tools, and being able to intentionally create a style is an advanced skill that requires the skill to draw in various styles, strong basics, self-awareness, and proper self-critique.

The rest of this is going to be very incoherent and long winded and backwards so I apologize.

The most important thing to improving is to get over yourself. You need to look at someone else's art and be able to admit it's better than yours or has a quality you wish yours had without that being a statement of self-deprecation. You need to be able to look at your own art and pick out what it is you don't like about it without using it to beat yourself up. You can't improve if you get demotivated by the information required to adjust your course.

If you must, find something in each drawing that you like and focus on learning how to recreate that. If you find yourself with a drawing that you genuinely find nothing you like about it you stop drawing and restart, because that drawing is worthless to you once you recognize that. Analyze why you don't like it, figure out what's causing you to draw that way, ask what you might prefer instead and what the difference between them is, and figure out how to draw what you want instead. The important thing is that when you examine your art and other's art you're using as inspiration you don't instead use it as a tool to put yourself down.

My shadows are flat and poorly angled, and I draw everything lopsides, and I can say those things as simple facts of my art. These are things I still do, and I use tools to fix them, like turning my tablet or using editing tools, or looking up references. If I want to know a certain technique I reach out to other artists I see using said technique and asking, or I research it myself. In the meantime I experiment and accept this flaw in my art. There's other things to like. The important thing is you don't allow your lack of knowledge to demotivate you from correcting that lack of knowledge.

The best thing you can do is ask yourself what you like about art, and what you want to do. It's a bit difficult for me to help with this sort of thing because I've literally always drawn my whole life, so helping someone who is actively choosing to take up drawing isn't my realm of expertise. But art is communication and connection and self-expression. What do you want to express through your art and what medium is that expression best done in, what do you want to convey, what do you want to share that you simply cannot without art.

It's a bit daunting, those sound like profound questions, but honestly they're not. When I draw fanart usually what I wanna communicate is "I like these characters when they do this", and more often than not it's "I really liked this line/palette".

These incomplete character sketches have sat in my main D&D folder and I think about him at least once a month entirely because I was so happy with his proportions and the concept of a dewclaw heel. I ended up reusing the heel in these Jimmy designs.

It can be anything and changes with each piece. Drawing let's me express what I love and emphasize what I love about it or show it from my perspective. I'll use this raau page as an example.

This is actually based on a shop that I've gone to since I was a child, so it's a space that I've seen and thought about many times. Though it's changed, for ease of drawing and to fit into the setting of raau and for the sake of composition, but the things that are important to me are still here. The ceiling that feels slightly claustrophobically low, the rainbow coordinated shirts, the club covers shaped like animals, every inch of the shop being utilized for merchandise until you can barely see the walls, the nook shape of the section, the fluorescent lights with this specific covering that's very "soulless office job" but to me is also the playroom at my grandma's house and how both have no windows.

I wanted to preserve particular qualities of the atmosphere of the place, in order to express that in this image. That vibe that I could not describe in words to anyone who hasn't experienced it themselves so the best I could normally do is describe it and hope it sparks a similar enough memory. But with visual art I can use lightning, context, and composition to simply express it better. I can create the experience for someone else.

Sometimes writing is better at it than words, and sometimes both are needed, so I learned both. Sometimes music is better than either and I'm screwed because I can't do music. That's besides the point though.

When you're starting out you can have a hard time grasping what about a piece compels you. That's why you need to learn to critique art as you learn to draw, and that's also why tracing and copying is good.

Here's an example of me trying out @lunarcrown's art style. I made a collage and traced my favourite frame's shapes to "get my hands on it", if you will, before trying it out on my own, starting with similar poses usually. What I learned from this is I really like how Lunar does hair, actually even though this was a study of Tango I took notes on how she does Jimmy's hair and applied it to my Scar, Impulse, and Skizz, because I'm awful at short men's hairstyles.

I also cemented one of the reasons I love her art is because it does have some qualities that I already incorporate into mine, like the streamlining between flushed materials such as her Tango's skin and skin-tight shirt, or my Tango's sleeves and gloves.

If you know what you like about something it's easier to work towards incorporating it into your own art without simply copying someone else's. And starting out by copying as a way to play around with someone's art the same way an engineer pulls something apart is helpful in doing so.

Which leads me further back into simply go somewhere and draw what you see. The drawing does not have to be good, but being able to just take a sketchbook and see something that scratches your brain and mimic it is important to developing the above skills. Being able to translate reality into an image is important to developing your skills and understanding the fundamentals of breaking things down. Being able to look at something moving or possibly far away and look down and draw it anyways by breaking down its shapes is important in developing your ability to use references.

Drawing is also mostly muscle memory. So it's important to draw things over and over again. You can do this how you want, you're always going to hit a wall where you end up having to sit there and draw circles 50 times on a page to remember how to draw circles like you're trying to get a dry pen to work. You will do this before almost every serious picture. Find a way for you to enjoy this process.

The biggest most important rule about art, though, is that there is not rules. Go about things however you want for whatever reason you want. If you enjoy doing something a certain way do it that way, if you hate a particular process eliminate it. Sometimes the result outweighs a miserable process, if having something look a certain way is more important then suck it up and do so. If you care more about enjoying a motion than what the end result is then do so. You have to ask yourself what you care about in art.

For now, though, if you're just starting out. The best thing you can do is draw a lot of circles and cubes and fruit. It's an unfortunate truth that the best foundation is learning realism, because it's just going to teach your the fundamentals the best, and all abstraction is... well, an abstraction.

Of course, as just said, there is no rules, and if you genuinely do not enjoy drawing those things like me, then you can simply not. It helps improvement the fastest but if it makes you miserable in a way that isn't backed by passion then that's counterproductive. Forcing yourself only really works if you're passionate enough about what you're doing to overcome the temporary discomfort of learning, so if you're satisfied with just being able to mimic something more abstract in the beginning do exactly that and explore what would make you passionate enough to be willing to draw things you aren't stoked about for an end result. You might never be, but that's also fine, you don't have to strive to be the world's greatest artist to justify drawing.

Also accept that you're absolutely going to change your mind on things. What felt like a great line to draw you're going to hate the next day. It's up to you if you leave it be or fix it, neither's the right answer. I tend to lean towards leaving it personally, even when it drive some up a wall, simply because I have very momentary inspiration and don't like returning to old pieces once I'm done with them. Some people will return to a picture over and over again fixing it every time they think of something. Whatever floats your boat.

tl;dr figure out what you enjoy doing with art and just do that as much as you like. Improve by finding new things you want to do with art. Combine as you see fit to create art.

...

okay time for references:

I try to keep my designs simple because the style I developed for mcyt art was intended for animations. I've drifted a bit but in general I keep to simple shape-defined designs with long lines, flat colours, and minimal wrinkles. It's intentionally flat in many ways in order to create more satisfying lines, like the collar of his shirt or the way his hands ' gradient is done with the line art.

Tango is both round and angular, basically he's an almond. His shape is ambiguous in much of his clothing, with very understated joints. This gives him a move cartoony elastic sort of vibe, like he's just a pipe cleaner that can bend any which way, or a piece of rubber that might stretch.

I avoid bogging him down with logic for that reason, his hair is styled like hair but it has the appearance and moves like fire. Which is it? Who knows. Where are his organs? I haven't drawn them so they don't exist.

[forecast0ctopus]

Any advice on drawing McCoy? I’m not used to drawing ancient wrinkley bastards (affectionate) and it’s surprisingly tough v-v

FOR SURE lmao i made. a diagram. just a warning that i am going to be irritating and long winded because u just hit a topic i really like sorry lmao

so first off i did some traces just to show whats there vs redraws to show my interpretation

ive said this on other asks but again jsyk, tracing isnt bad!! its a tool. theres some stuff with intellectual property and whatnot but using tracing to study shapes and forms is a really valuable practice.

also just taking some time to learn facial structures and anatomy is super useful, reading what bones and muscles are where and how they interact with one another. taking this info and staring in the mirror and moving your face around and thinking about it. just really furthers understanding of how the face works. trying to sound normal about this but i love anatomy and motion and physics and whatever

anyways im going to go through all the numbered points so there's no confusion. 1. forehead lines - self explanatory. more prominent when brows are raised 2. crows feet - at the outer corners of the eyes, more prominent when smiling or squinting 3. nasolabial folds - the folds that go from the corners of the nose to the corners of the mouth. more prominent when the mouth is wide, like smiling 4. brow furrow - self explanatory, most prominent when brows are furrowed. mccoy tends to have two right next to his eyebrows, kirk has one in the middle. everyones face works different lmao 5. chin crease - caused by how the chin and lower lip interact. 6. nasojugal groove - start from the inner corners of the eye and can extent over the cheeks. everyone has these and idk why people dont like them i think theyre really cool!!!! but Society. i guess. :/ 7. eye bags - caused by the skin sagging beneath the eyes. mccoy isnt even that old in tos i think hes meant to be mid 40s by the end of the 5 year mission, hes just got really prominent eye bags lmao 8. idk what the name is for these, but when the mouth is wide and pushes the skin to the sides, these folds sometimes form outside of the nasolabial folds 9. philtrum - the groove above the upper lip. i dont usually draw this but mccoy's struck me as prominent enough that i usually draw it on him 10. masseter - the muscle that moves the jaw up and down. its a pretty rugged muscle and while i wouldnt say mccoy's is especially prominent, it kind of extends that nasojugal groove from certain angles/positions 11. orbicularis oris - mouth muscle, usually easier to see when lips are pursed or frowns are pulled. mccoy's is pretty prominent from 3/4ths or side, his mouth tends to protrude in profile 12. this isnt a muscle but more of a line defining the planes of the face, but since i drew it i felt i should explain lmao

a few points:

im an animator i tend to exaggerate and emphasize certain things so i usually make him more square.

i like to combine eyebags and crows feet for brevity/flow, same with nasojugal grooves, eyebags, and masseter lines. my approach is always subject to change based on pose, expression, reference image, etc.

i take out details that i deem redundant or cluttering and keep what details i need to make things feel Right

all this info is applicable to any character of any age, its just in how you apply it and facial proportions that willl change how old a character is perceived to be

there's a lot more with drawing a Character rather than an Actor, just because the features are there doesnt necessarily mean things will feel correct? its very much in the mannerisms and poses and expressions

i only went over my approach to his likeness but not really body type or posing or anything idk if u want that i could always try to answer that later haha

_______________

anyways all that info kind of exists nebulously in my brain while i draw its not like im sitting there thinking Must Draw. Nasolabial Fold...... i jsut do what feels right with the visual info i have. also i love specificity in faces.... i dont like to be a hater but when every character is drawn the same it pisses me off a little lmao. so

also dont take my word as The Only Way to do anything i just draw how i like to draw and no one should feel like these are things that Must be done to be a good artist or anything do whatever the hell u wanna do

[lucabyte]

Same anon from before. I get what you're saying, but I think we just have a difference in how we view Siffrin's gender. I don't really think it's possible for him to have a traditional gendered upbringing. They're a unique character to analyze gender wise in that sense. The Siffrin we know essentially popped into existence nearly as blank of slate as a person could be. I think about thier gender from the pov of what it would like to be that blank slate, and the detachment that would bring to the concept of gender as a whole. There's nothing for him to hold on to because he can't remember what it means to be a guy in the first place.

So to me, the he is as constructed as every other part of his identity. <- Hoping this makes sense.

(contexts: essay & prev anon)

i see i see. thank u for elaborating

i think you've misunderstood my angle, which is fair enough since I ramble a lot. But now that I know where you're coming from I can say what I'm talking about is kind of from a different mode of like. analysis.

Basically, I'm not really arguing for siffrin being able to Remember how they were raised, outside of the very specific things they exhibit in game of being afraid to want for things, which is the wish craft thing. In-universe, what I'm arguing is that Siffrin has gone for the "default" for what they have. They're going for 'he' because it's what they went with at first, and are scared to make any moves in any direction because being assertive about their wants is the thing they struggle with. It could be constructed, sure, but whatever it is, its the one they started with/got given at some point and now they're scared to change it.

But, what I'm actually arguing for, which is the point you haven't quite gotten by the sounds of it, is that I'm arguing from a like, thematic "what was the author intending/drawing paralells with the real world" angle.

In this reading, siffrin's like, inability to remember their childhood upbringing doesn't really matter? because I'm kind of arguing past that line of reasoning. I'm more talking about my speculations on Adrienne's Intentions-- I'm trying to read the authorial intent, not the in-universe reasoning.

And to me, the big smoking gun here, is that the change religion is The Transgender Religion, and Siffrin is an Outsider to it. In terms of thematic writing here, it makes most sense, to me, for Siffrin's trepidation re: change to come from a character who has been written with the assumption that they've never taken a big leap and changed their whole identity, instead clinging to what they know.

This makes Siffrin's gender another potential avenue for the game to use as Theme. The fact that they are nonbinary already is something of note, but that they seem to be doing it out of apathy rather than joy (making them opposite to isabeau) would make the most sense, thematically. They're disconnected from themself (their culture, their body, their gender) and need to make decisions about it. They can stay nonbinary, they can stay masc aligned, they can lean harder in whatever direction they want-- But they should do it because it makes them *happy*, not because its the path of least resistence. (which highly resembles the theme of the game of having those difficult conversations about wanting things!)

Which, thematically, is a little more solid if they've never taken that control before. I'm talking way more about story structure and authorial intent than i am the character's *actual* gender identity and expression, yknow?

So like. not actually incompatible with your thoughts? You're just saying they constructed the he/they at least a little bit on purpose, and i'm saying it makes sense if they're just doing that by default-- but all i'm saying is that it makes more /thematic/ story sense, if this 'default/constructed' dichotomy *also* maps on to our IRL concepts of being transgender-- ie that default is based on your Junk. Which is something that Vaugarde (and Maybe the island) don't agree with, so yeah, maybe that doesn't matter to In-universe-siffrin. but i'm not arguing about in-universe-siffrin's choices as much as i'm arguing about Adrienne id5's choices when making siffrin.

BUT dont worry this is why i was so worriedly yapping about watsonian (in-universe explanations) vs doylist (author-based explanations) so much, beause I know most fandom discussion comes from in-universe theorising, but i'm doing is basically the opposite so i was kind of expecting people to get tripped up by it. So I hope this clears it up a bit?

To try and put it succinctly... umm..

Siffrin is a Fictional Character, and I'm speculating about the Design and Writing Decisions that went into making them, and then using that to inform my in-universe thoughts on Siffrin.

Basically trying to get into the author's headspace to get to know them better, rather than trying to get into the Character's headspace to get to know them better. It's just a different approach and as such it can lead to different answers. (esp since. siffrin is so cagey their headspace is uh. well. even they have issues with it. its hard to get in there)

[dazedantics]

"Alucard?" You said softly, looking up from your charcoal detail paper.

The man hummed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You glance back down at the drawing you'd finished of him.

It looked great, he was a marvelous subject for a portrait. He was perfectly still and silent in any pose you positioned him, unmoving until you said you had finished. You loved to gaze at him with each drawing, tracing the outline of his well defined features, like the curve of his jaw or sharp shape of his nose, the soft curls of his golden hair that fell in waves around his shoulders, the length of his lashes that cast shadows over his amber eyes, the prominent arch of his brows, and swell of his plump lips onto the thick sheet of paper you carried around with a pen of charcoal, shading his features to match the lighting in a way you knew best.

Each pose, angle, and lighting was different. But there was one thing every drawing of him had in common.

"Why don't I ever see you smile?"

The man stiffened and proceeded to ignore your inquiry. "Are you almost done? I believe it's nearly time for our evening meal."

You looked back up at him and nodded slowly.

"I couldn't be more grateful that you allow me to draw you, Alucard. But, I am noticing a pattern in your ... habits. The way you present yourself."

Alucard stood and proceeded to walk in the direction of the kitchen, hoping to escape your conversation.

You followed after him.

"You are less grumpy looking than when we first met. But I have never seen you laugh or smile or give any other expression than this numb, blank look."

"My apologies, I am just not an expressive person like you're used to. There's no need to follow me, I'll finish up quickly and call for you when the food is done."

For a moment you didn't reply, simply staring at him from behind as he took long strides in front of you.

Like the castle walls surrounding you, he was so cold and sheltered, with walls thick enough to withstand many heavy attacks from the outside. So distant. Hiding in his own mind as he was hiding in this crumbling structure so deep into the woods.

You hoped one day you could even hear a snippet of what he was thinking of, get accepted into his inner fortress like you had been able to be accepted to stay within this fortified home of his.

You just, didn't know how.

Hesitantly, you reached out to him, pausing your actions for a moment before finally grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat, prompting him to stop and look over at you.

You gave him a warm smile and said, "if you ever have anything you need to get off your chest, I'll always be here to listen."

Alucard blinked slowly at you and after a minute you continued to walk in front of him, babbling about what he should make for this evening.

It went in one ear and out the other.

Alucard, now following behind you, furrowed his brow and pursed his lips further as he ran your words back in his mind over and over again.

Such compassionate words. From a seemingly harmless person. He truly wanted to believe you and tell you all that has been persistently wearing him down. But he just couldn't.

He had met one too many who gave him the same impression of harmlessness. And they had no remorse in trying to take advantage of his trust and vulnerability. That cut deeper than any sword or claw ever had and he couldn't handle the thought of experiencing that again with you.

He may have been a fool to let you in to live with him in the first place. But he would not make the mistake of blindly trusting you because he was lonely. He would not allow it.

'You'll always be here?'

Unlikely.

Alucard shook his head to clear his thoughts, and jumped into the conversation of dinner plans instead.

Maybe one day, he'd be able to meet someone he could actually trust. Maybe that person was you. He really hoped so. But as of now, it was too soon to tell.

He'd skirt any further questions you had in correspondence to this until much further in the future, when all doubts about your intentions were washed away from his mind.

An issue that would be much harder to fix than simply wishing it to go away.

[spotsupstuff]

hey spot, do you have any tips for drawing iterator faces- more specifically "snouted" faces (like five pebbles)?

this gotta be some kinda ploy to make me draw Pebs again augh...

not sure if i really have many tips from my actual process, i guess? i'm tryin to speed thru the process of drawin as much as i can so more nuanced things get lost in favor of a shorthand, but i suppose i can try muster some stuff up. one isn't a master of their craft if they can't explain it to a child, as they say

main idea i try to chase with Pebs (since for now he's the only Gen 3 design i have with the snout stuff) is the silhouette of the head, the boundaries? the same shape can be recycled for a different angle, though the body then has to be adjusted cuz it can look funky then

this is the quick process, at least. generally i'd slow down, polish some things, a drawing with a goal in mind usually takes a while longer because of the attempts at the best shapes n things that would communicate what i have in head, but it's also better defined because there is an actual specific idea in the head. "draw expression for sake of showing a head" vs "draw this character a little appalled with apprehensive hand against the chest and as if he can't stand something that's happening in front of him"

here's the latter idea Pebs with more time spent on him- slower brush strokes, eraser and Especially the select tool which was used specifically to move the eye n marks lower + make his head smaller. the select tool isn't cheating (since i know some throw a fuss about that), use it when something isn't entirely clickin freely

as always, when an artist's shorthand isn't working out for ya/you can't tune into the same process of slappin a vision on canvas, breaking a thing down to its basic shapes and working with those should do the trick

oh! another trick i used a few times. from the middle of the + on the base circle that helps direct the face, extend a line that would serve for some snout navigation in 3D

[starflungwaddledee]

clearing my inbox of a variety of asks with text replies, or ones that will get art answers later but that i still figured i could get back to now with simpler responses in the interim.

lots of anons, but i'll ping anyone who i can!

topics include: general nice words + people's theories (thank you!!), dededesign, daroach (sorry), sentient ancient artifacts, magolor (sorry...), whispy woods (SORRY...). there's also a decent scattering of awtdy and clockwork heart tidbits but they're all over the place, and a small collection of increasingly desperate asks hoping bandee will be released from morpho dee 😂

oohh this one is actually super old, sorry that i never got back to it! i get a little overwhelmed by the Nice Words ones sometimes and i'm not sure what to say besides 'thank you!!' because it means a lot to me and 'thank you!' just sometimes feels like it doesn't cut it...?

anyway, i'm very grateful!! i'm thrilled if i could inspire you to try out any constructed-language work of your own!! i'd love to see more of that going on in the kirbyverse so if you ever give it a crack feel free to lmk!

i'm glad you like the full penguin dededesign; quite a few folks seemed to enjoy that actually and i was pleasantly surprised! i haven't drawn that much of most characters besides bandee, to be fair, but the next comic will be about dedede and should answer some of the other questions i've been getting about him too!

i should say that it's likely the totally full penguin design won't make it for the comic, because it's hard to draw the sheer length of their bills from many angles or having the expressiveness i need for dedede, and i really only did that one for funsies. but i'll hopefully find a nice compromise!

aaaa the joy of being mentally unwell about The Characters and The Story. thank you, glad i can be of service! 👍

this is quite perceptive of you to notice and it's definitely something that occurs in the timeline. due to galacta knight's influence (and kirby's altered reputation) visitors and threats- both international and intergalactic- start to think twice before risking an approach.

alas, because daroach appears in the timeline before galacta knight's switch-in occurs, he would already be in contact and friendship with kirby. that unfortunately means he'd meet the same fate as the rest of kirby's existing allies.

@i-only-created-this-to-read a little similar to the above ask, yes, the intergalactic picture of popstar is definitely changed by the presence of a violent, otherworldly warrior and a ruthless hero. i also answered your questions about necrodeus previously and am not sure what else to say about him.

i have confirmed before that dedede is not dead, and more about his scenario and overall role in the plot will be revealed in comics. but i will say that he's a smart guy, despite his silliness, and a loving king. he absolutely came to the same conclusion about the frequency of his own possessions as well, through no small amount of heartbreak.

i definitely headcanon the Lor as sentient; in the light novels, bandee also speaks to her fairly directly. i actually headcanon all the Ancient artifacts as having an amount of sentience (this seem in line with what we've seen in canon, so i don't think it's a reach) and the lor herself seems especially benevolent to me.

our headcanons for the novas are different to yours, though that plays more of a role in the clockwork heart au. i quite enjoy your theories about how the ending might go and you've definitely picked up some details!! i won't confirm or deny anything, but i will say the lor is present in the AU, and that magolor has enough knowledge of artifacts to know that a wish on a wishing star could be a viable solution.

it took a while for folks to start asking me about magolor actually, which i found kind of amusing because he's the deuteragonist (second protagonist, after bandee) of the au!

i do definitely think that canonically magolor lives on the lor starcutter; though he does say he wants to buy a holiday home on popstar! however in awtdy, unlike the dream land four three, magolor's entire timeline is trashed from the get-go by galacta knight's arrival

some of these answers will take me longer to get to as i'll provide them in comics (it should be a fun reveal at least), but i will say: he hates popstar. he hates it there. he'd give just about anything to be anywhere else.

until he meets bandee, of course.

the rest of popstar fare a little better or a little worse at various points in the au, kind of like in the mainline canon timeline. for the most part, galacta knight isn't that interested in most of popstar. he enjoys living there, it's peaceful and undeniably pleasant, and frankly he'd like to continue doing so!

he can be convinced (by kirby, and the maintenance of the lie) to perform care to some of its citizens when necessary- such as rebuilding after a crisis. but in general he minds his business in dream land, and occasionally off-world or interdimensionally with kirby and bandee on missions.

whispy, who also keeps to his own in the woods and is just a cantankerous old tree, is probably fine. at least up until star allies, when he, you know. gets possessed.

@pumpkinnkidd oh absolutely.

@torrentialchaos2 that would be a different story to chrysalis au, i think! one i could write, but haven't. chrysalis au is specifically about bandee, you can't really extract him from it? 😭 but if morpho possessed magolor it would depend on a lot of things: like what is everyone's relationship to him when it happens? i think even when he comes back from his redemption arc, magolor and the gang are friends, but it's not the same as bandee, who is a core member of their unit.

we've already seen what happens when magolor gets possessed and kirby has to Beat His Ass to get him back to normal. and we've seen that when morpho possesses others who are capable fighters, kirby doesn't hold back. so maybe that? magolor is a magical little guy; he's got a better chance of getting spat back out unscathed.

i could however probably write a version of this for magicapple if i wanted, which would be much more emotionally pulverising lmao

@trainerbob23 thank you!! this one took me a bit to respond to sorry, but i'm grateful for the warm welcome! the AUs are definitely my primary investment and i'm glad that folks are enjoying seeing them develop! some of them are connected to each other (awtdy + it's various endings/alts) but others are separate.

i also do have some backstory/lore for starstruck dee, which i'll hopefully get to soon as well. i would say that she is... very much related to stars and the cosmos, yes.

@eliastheownerof0axolotls this one was part of a longer ask (that i've answered part of, and still have another part of in my queue... sorry;; ) but i think this part- especially in terms of kirby- has probably been mostly answered by now! both kirby and dedede have significant roles!

i view dedede as having a mentor-like dynamic with bandee as well as with kirby, and they all care about each other very much! but (especially because they are all adults in my hc) he also absolutely trusts them to handle themselves.

referring to this post and the (cw angst) art at the end. i will hopefully answer some other asks about the clockwork heart au which will satisfy more of its overall premise and timeline and all, but in regards to the peculiar image...

why that picture is completely normal!! bandee is super fine and normal in it and everything is great and good and fine and fine and fine and fine!!! hhahaha!!!

(something very bad is happening, lmao. entirely doomed by the narrative.)

speaking of bandee being doomed by the narrative:

some tags here as well, but i just love the frequency of these...

bandee gets possessed one time and everybody loses it... quick!! when will he get unpossessed!!! save that little guy!!! he's sad so we're sad!! (relatable. everyone is so valid.)

the tags on the main posts about morpho dee are just full of people screaming and crying and being like "NOOO I HATE THIS SM I'M IN PAIN /pos" and it's so good hahahaha

sorry to the folks who hate to see him going through the blender, he's being spun in the microwave at like 90mph on my blog. but don't worry, chrysalis au does have a predictably good ending; though obviously bandee has some capital S Stuff to unpack afterwards!!

🌟⭐✨

aaand i think that's all for now! hopefully if you've been hanging out for an ask for a while you're answer is here, and if not (and possibly even if it is), it's most likely taking me so long because i want to do an answer with art.

i'll try not to let these build up again like this, thank you for your patience!

[nighthuntingclato]

WIP Wednesday. @atefingersdagger @ongreenergrasses @majorsoapfan @relentlessescapism @ylvisruinedmylife

Made this for @atefingersdagger , I actually don't know what fic it would go in, just played with a concept. It is very self indulgent btw

Predictably, Cato can't seem to focus on his own damn party, thrown in his honor, too busy scanning the opulently decorated ballroom searching for the other special guest of the event. It doesn't take long for his search to yield results - she's rather tough to miss, despite her small stature. Cato's eyes land on his District partner and co-Victor (and, regardless of how presumptuous the sentiment may be, his other half), who stands tall and proud like any citizen of Two would, not to mention looking drop-dead (pun intended) gorgeous in a fancy black lacy gown with a slit up the side to free her movements - and drive him mad with a flash of thigh.

Her lacking height enhanced by the highest heels he's ever seen, she saunters confidently in his direction once she spots him, sporting a wide grin, somehow not shaky or wobbling in the slightest. Leave it to Clove to have such an impressive balance, managing to take his breath away and not even trip in those death trap shoes of hers. Of course, she doesn't tower above him - not that the Capitol couldn't provide twelve-inch platform shoes to accommodate their height difference - but the significant height disparity between them is lessened to something manageable.

Downing a shot of some suspiciously colored alcoholic beverage to alleviate the sudden dryness of his mouth, he welcomes her approach with a nod, one arm slinging around her bared shoulders when she takes a seat next to him on the barstool. Keeping up pretenses, of course, although he hardly kept his hands to himself anyways with this girl.

"Nice heels," he grunts, needing to clear his throat after the sentence.

Elongated silver nails that might function as miniature swords graze along his arm, the touch like a kitten's claws, feather-light and meaning no true harm. She interlocks their fingers, comparatively smaller palm dwarfed by his. "Oh, the heels?" Sarcasm drips like honey on her words, her sweet tone barbed with the sting of tracker-jackers. "Not everything else that took an excruciatingly long time with my prep team?" She scoffs in disbelief, snatching Cato's glass with her unoccupied hand and scarfing down the rest of his unfinished drink, eyes maintaining relentless contact.

Having the sense to indulge her, he amends his statement. "You look beautiful, Clove," he mutters truthfully. He doesn't need a fabricated romance to say the words, utterly honest and sincere. "You always do... but those heels..." Cato swallows, painful.

"Ohhhh," she draws out the word mockingly, eyes glowing with her realization - and the opportunity to bully him. "I see, you really like these heels," she teases, shifting her position so she's further tucked against his side and one of her shoes can rub a path along his calf. Never mind the fact that they are in public. Perhaps it would help their image as "lovers," but neither give a damn about that.

"Maybe I should keep them on tonight," she continues, contemplative, taking her bottom lip under her teeth - very rude of her, considering he'd like to be the one doing that for her.

"Clove," he warns, a waste of his efforts. She has her claws digging in, and not letting go. Her thigh brushes against his, the flap of cloth of her dress sliding to make the slit wider and expose the milky freckled skin for his view.

That pretty mouth of hers smiles at him, fond, sweet, and downright sinful with its intent at the same time. Cato can only imagine how she'll be aiming that lethal expression at him later tonight, neck tilted at an angle for her viewing pleasure when he gets on his knees and noses along her thigh before getting to business and removing her bedazzled stilts with gentle, doting hands. Or, if she's truly planning to keep them on, he can envision himself forced flat on his back with the heel pressing on his chest, right up on his sternum.

[ask-team-misfit]

"Are you feeling better?" Sirius asked, "Considering you're not currently lying on the floor I will assume that is the case... I do hope the nausea lessens with time." He sighed, now that Lief was somewhat sober the Meowstic seemed anxious to be talking to him, almost as if he was worried he would get upset again. He definitely couldn't cope with another round of insults from Lief, even so, he continued. 

"Perhaps now I could properly apologise for my earlier actions, I was unaware of how much distress you were in at that moment and it was wrong of me to become upset at you for stating your personal feelings and dislike towards me. You should be allowed to not speak to me and avoid me at your own discretion without me interfering and tricking you." His voice slowly became sad and quiet as he spoke, "You don't have to like me. I'm sorry for subjecting you to my unwanted presence earlier... Though your words still bother me, I should not expect you to be aware of why... nor to care. But, I do hope you can forgive me, If not. That is all I wish to say to you."

In his focus on making sure the scarf was in one piece, aside him forgetting even speaking to Sirius before, the sound of the Psychic-type's voice surprised him. It was a repeat of his earlier, initial reaction when he spotted him as a humanoid; he didn't peg the guy as a social sort at all.

In fact, it made him jerk up so suddenly, that he toppled into the pool he had just dumped an ungodly amount of soap into.

He'd rush back out in a panic, spitting and coughing and gagging, his fur sopping wet and revealing how skinny he truly was. Just prior he was still somewhat sleepy; but now he appeared much more awake.

Lief: "CREATOR OF GODS I THINK THAT GOT IN MY-"

His movements slow, and he quieted down, upon making eye contact with Sirius.

And he proceeded to stand back up on his hind legs and try to make like he wasn't startled.

Even as pathetic wet lumps of what was formerly his stored pollen puffs fell splat on the floor in a gross pile, making his tail look even more like a sad, shaggy mop. Even as his wings jitter and shake off the excess water.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief, a hybrid of Sylveon and Ribombee, with a mono-color background. He is shown from the neck up, with his face slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. He appears rather dismissive, glancing away towards the right with even narrower eyes. His face is flushed in red, literally so as the blush is shown in color. End ID ]

Lief: "Ahem. Uhh. First of all, you didn't see that."

He was trying very hard to be casual. Deep down, he felt so, so embarrassed. All that really came to mind was his first encounter with the Seer.

But something else bugged him about this encounter, that made it feel different than before. Something that tickled his brain on the fringes of his consciousness, related to the prior series of events he still struggled to recall.

Wo-Chien had said he argued with a Meowstic. Surely he didn't mean this Meowstic...

Lief: "Also, you really gotta work on that. Did you always sneak up on people like this? If I hadn't known better, I'd assume you were actually a Dark-type. Or even a Ghost-type... if I met one."

A pause. It seemed he only now realized all of what Sirius just said to him. He blinked with confusion.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image, but with a different expression. He looks puzzled, or curious. His left eyebrow is noticeably raised, while his right eyelid is lowered somewhat. He is frowning visibly. An angular question mark is floating next to his head at the left. End ID ]

Lief: "And... wait, you're what now? Apologizing?"

[lightcurse2end]

”The stars don’t shine on us like they used to.”

Warning: Implied Death, Children,

Koji stumbled through the forest, the gift bag in his hands, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the girl on the other side. “Ieiri. Look, I don’t care that you couldn’t make it. Really.”

“I promise. You have to rest, it’s your day off after all. I’ll tell him you said hi.”

After letting her finish speaking, he hung up, pocketing his phone, heading further through the trees. As the area started to grow more chaotic, the trees bent at different angles with some of the old leaves burnt, decorating the floor, he picked up the pace, heading towards his destination.

As he walked past the ruined building, he stopped, turning to it.

He swore all this happened yesterday. The day everything derailed.

“What? No, everything is on fire!” Koji stammered, his eyes wide with panic. He had Raymond’s arm in a tight grip, trying to pull him away from the now smoking facility. 

Raymond’s gaze only hardened. “Our friends are in there!” 

“We’re going to die!” Koji shot back. “We…We can go! There’s no one to stop us! Maybe they got out earlier!”

Raymond stopped for a minute, looking Koji over with a solemn expression before relaxing. 

“Fine. We can go.”

As the two boys started to quickly move away from the facility, Raymond needing to be dragged by Koji, looking tired, they got out to a clearing in the forest, where the moon was shining down on them, her light illuminating the small area. Koji panted, letting go of Raymond and looking around. 

There should be a sign. He saw that people used signs and maps to get around usually. Maybe there was one around.

“Ray-Ray, I think we can go…north.” He looked up at the stars. “Like the North Star! It might lead us somewhere, maybe to a big city.” 

When he didn’t get a response, he turned back to Raymond, who wasn’t moving at all, staring at him.

“…Ray-Ray?”

A loud bang erupted from where they came, a mushroom cloud of smoke visible above the trees. He winced, covering his ears, looking at the sky. “Oh no. Did you-“ He’s cut off as the Raymond clone dissipates into thin air. 

He stood there for a minute, looking at the small ashes floating around him before he ran.

He didn’t even know if he was going the right way. 

Even as the pain in his legs tore into his muscles, the burning pain searing his calves.

Even as the tears ran down his face, falling behind him and blurring his vision. 

Even as the smoke entered his lungs when he finally found the ruined building.

Koji finally approached the small makeshift grave that included two sticks tied together with small stones around it. A few other offerings that Koji had given were around, a stack of children’s books and toys that lined the grave.

Koji sat down crossed, taking the stuff out of the gift bag, which were the same exact children’s books and toys, adding them to the ongoing pile. He took a moment to tie his hair back, staring at the grave. “Hi. Uh…don’t get mad at me. Since I missed last year’s meeting. You’re probably gonna haunt me, or something for it but I was busy. Not like you do anything anymore.” He scoffed.

“It’s been a while. I have more friends now, other than Shoko. Good ones. You’d really like Lotus, she reminds me of you a lot. Shell, Dusty, Moon and..Oh!” He grinned. “I have a girlfriend now! Her name is Aveira. She’s so amazing. Beautiful, Smart, Badass, and overall, one of the best people i’ve ever met. God, she’s perfect. And she doesn’t even think badly of me. Surprisingly..”

He went silent at that, his finger subconsciously drawing patterns in the dirt. 

“Well, yeah, There are some days, the thoughts do come back. Moon gave me something to help with it but…it doesn’t stop those thoughts. Sometimes, I do wish it was me. Other times…I’m grateful. I don’t know. I should have been faster. I should have listened to you. You would have been here and I wouldn’t have to be talking to a stupid…grave.”

He stopped, covering his eyes for a minute. A few shaky breaths later, he looked back at the cross through the cracks in his fingers.

This time, however, he didn’t feel…bad. He still felt grief. But not as much guilt as he usually did. It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t Ray’s fault either.

They were children.

After a moment, he stood, taking Mac’s carrier and putting it back on his back as he walked away.

“Sorry, baby. I promise i’ll get you something on the way home. 

i think you can tell this isn’t proofread.

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 13

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ This chapter contains sexual content. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

Morgan stood outside the heavy doors of Homelander’s penthouse, her pulse steady but her mind still racing with the events of the day. The image of Charlie’s car—crumpled like a soda can—lingered in her thoughts, mingled with the satisfaction of knowing it could have been much worse. She exhaled, her lips twitching into a faint smile. Of all the things Homelander could’ve done to prove a point, he’d picked Charlie’s precious car. 

It was... poetic.

There was a part of her that wondered if she should have been worried he knew which car was Charlie’s in the first place, but it didn’t matter now. It was a clear message that he wasn’t to reach out to her anymore. There were a few upsides to having caught Homelander’s attention in the way she had.

Adjusting her skirt, she let out a soft sigh of relief. Casual clothes were a blessed relief from the armor she’d been stuck in all day. It also made the nature of her visit feel a lot less like she had to keep up appearances. Right then, she didn’t have to pretend to be Psryen. She was just Morgan.

Steeling herself a little, she knocked once, twice, then let herself in. It wasn’t much different from the times he had let himself into her apartment.

Homelander stood by the far window, his back to her, as if he already knew she’d come. It was likely he’d heard her approach either way. His posture was relaxed, but Morgan could sense the tension beneath the surface. The air inside was thick with quiet, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the glass walls.

“I heard the craziest story today,” she started, her voice light, feigning ignorance. “One of the finance managers found his car absolutely totaled down in the parking garage. Nobody knows how it happened, but goddamn… Can you imagine having to file that insurance claim?”

He still didn’t turn to face her, but the tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. "Insurance claim?" he echoed, his voice low and smooth. "Does insurance usually cover damage that falls under ‘acts of god?’"

Morgan smirked, stepping further into the room. She could see his reflection in the glass now, the sharp angles of his face softened by the evening light. "An act of god, huh?" she chuckled, drawing closer. "I wouldn’t go that far. Though, I don’t think it falls under ‘acts of a disgruntled coworker’ either."

He finally turned, his eyes locking onto hers, a mix of amusement and something else, something darker, flickering in the blue depths. "Coworker?" he scoffed. "No, definitely not. He’s nowhere close to being in our league."

“You know… Reluctantly, I am forced to agree with you.” she said with a small, wry grin. “Charlie’s in a league of his own, somewhere between roaches and sewer rats.”

Homelander’s smirk deepened, but there was something behind his expression—something careful, and somewhat guarded. "There’s really no lost love between you and him, is there?”

"None whatsoever," she replied, her voice softening as she finally closed the space between them. She tilted her head, studying him in the fading light. "That’s why I can't even be mad about what you did." 

There was a pause, and then she added, more sincerely, "You could have done a lot worse. I know you wanted to."

Homelander’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her words. "You sound almost relieved."

"I am." Morgan didn’t flinch as she said it, her tone genuine. "And really, destroying his car was a great touch. I’m not sure a simple detailing fee is going to cover that sort of damage.”

Homelander gave her a look that surprised her a little. It was gentle, thoughtful and perhaps even the slightest bit empathetic. “Consider it my personal touch.” He took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking even further. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t paying attention.”

Morgan’s smile softened, and her heart stuttered slightly as his presence filled the space around her. She could feel the shift in the air—the playfulness giving way to something deeper, just waiting to be given a voice. The way he looked at her now, there was no trace of the smirk, only the sincerity of his gaze, searching her face as if waiting for her to draw a line or step away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she exhaled softly, her shoulders relaxing as she let herself lean into the quiet between them. “I noticed,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re always paying attention.” There was no teasing in her tone now, just the faintest trace of gratitude—understanding, even.

He didn’t respond immediately, but the shift in his expression was subtle. The trepidation in his eyes softened, just for a moment, and he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her arm. It was a small, tentative gesture—an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragile connection they shared.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city below hummed on in the background, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet—just the two of them, standing close enough to feel each other’s warmth. She looked up at him, her heart thrumming steadily in her chest. The charged air between them only seemed to thicken. They were both waiting, suspended in time—neither of them quite willing to make the first move, yet neither pulling away.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city below hummed on in the background, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet—just the two of them, standing close enough to feel each other’s warmth. She looked up at him, her heart thrumming steadily in her chest. The charged air between them only seemed to thicken. They were both waiting, suspended in time—neither of them quite willing to make the first move, yet neither pulling away.

“I can tell you’re thinking about it,” she whispered, her voice a little rougher, and a little more daring than usual. There was a spark of recklessness in her tone. Something unrestrained. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

For a second, he froze. A look of surprise flickered across his face, but beneath it, something deeper—hesitation. He had pushed for this, hoped for this, but now that it was happening, fear crept in. The last time he had let someone get close, it ended in betrayal, in hurt. But with Morgan, there was conviction, a sense that she wouldn’t break him the same way. Maybe that frightened him even more.

His hands twitched at his sides. He could feel the pull toward her, a part of him almost desperate for it. But what if this went wrong? What if she let him down too?

Morgan wasn’t waiting, though. She was tired of waiting. Tired of trying to control every second of her life. Control had always been her safety net, her way of coping, but right now, it was the last thing she wanted. Not after the day she’d had. Her emotions had been on a tightrope, and the way Homelander had dealt with Charlie lit something inside her.

And right now, she wanted to act on it.

“Unless you’re afraid,” she added, her voice challenging now, teasing, pushing him closer to the edge.

That did it. Slowly, his expression shifted. A touch of fear still lingered, but it was quickly snuffed out by something else. A need. A need for someone to stay, to not turn away from him when he was vulnerable. She wasn’t running, wasn’t recoiling, and that… that was new.

“I’m not afraid,” he said, his voice low, daring her to prove him wrong.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Her words were bold, reckless, and it only fed the wildfire of emotions building between them. She wasn’t thinking, wasn’t overanalyzing, and that excited her. For once, she was letting herself be there, in that moment, without weighing every consequence.

With a quick, sharp breath, he closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that started tentative but quickly grew bolder. He was testing how much of himself he could give before she pulled away. But she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she leaned in harder, her arms sliding up and around his neck to pull him closer. She wasn’t interested in half-measures. There was no hesitation in her touch, no holding back. She wanted to feel this, needed to, after everything. And she knew he needed it too.

His hands, which had hovered with uncertainty, finally settled on her waist, gripping her as if to ground himself. At least, that’s where they stayed for a brief moment. A soft moan rose from the depths of her chest, and was effectively smothered against his lips, prompting a similar sound from him in return.

Wandering over her hip and downward, one of his hands strayed to the hem of her skirt to hike it just a little higher. There was a slight moment of hesitation from him, but their kiss didn’t break for even a second. The way Morgan leaned into him with such ferocity was encouragement enough.

Homelander’s fingertips brushed against her innermost thigh, and she inhaled sharply, anticipation coursing through her like liquid fire. His touch was surprisingly delicate as he teased her over the thin fabric of her underwear. An aching desire built stronger and stronger, pulling taut in her abdomen. It only got worse as his fingers pulled away.

For just a moment, they broke apart, both of them breathless. He searched her face, looking for signs that maybe this wasn’t real. Part of him wondered if maybe she was about to pull away and tell him it was a mistake. But her eyes stayed on his, her chest rising and falling in time with his.

“I’m not running,” she said, her voice soft and resolute.

His thumb traced the edge of her bottom lip, kiss-bruised and full. The significance of what was about to transpire had just begun to settle in. “Good,” he murmured, the word carrying the kind of relief he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever.

They both dove in for another kiss, and this one was more frantic and full of need than the last. It was impossible for either one of them to settle in one spot for long as they both pawed impetuously and the other’s clothes. The more difficulty Morgan had figuring out how to get his suit off, the more she was glad that she had dressed down for the occasion.

Somewhere along the way, they had stumbled into his bedroom, both of them halfway undressed in some manner. There was a brief moment she found herself gawking up at the massive mirror on his ceiling, but her shock (and slight amusement) was cut short. The very moment she was laid out on the edge of his bed, all of her on display for him to see, he buried himself inside her in a single, smooth stroke. 

“Oh god…” she choked out, her voice a barely restrained whisper.

His only response was a slight smirk as he drew back, just enough to leave her wanting for a split second, then he pushed in again. He moved slowly– at first. Every soft breath, every little mewl he wrested from her drove him to rock into her just a little faster. Before long, she was clutching at his cape, keening desperately as his hips rutted and bucked against hers in a quick and steady rhythm.

Morgan was finally able to lose herself in the throes of it all. Her body moved instinctually with his, following his lead at some points, and at other points she was the one steering him toward the edge of ecstasy. Somewhere along the line, she had lost track of all sense of who she was, who he was, and everything that had brought them over the precipice.

That evening, nothing really mattered outside of that room. 

The soft rustle of the sheets and the faint rhythm of their breathing filled the space after some time. Their earlier exertions dissolved into a quiet intimacy. Morgan lay comfortably against his chest, her body relaxed, yet her mind still processing everything that had led them there. Her fingers traced absent patterns against his skin as she turned her head slightly to glance at him.

“So,” she began, her tone softer, more thoughtful, “I have to admit, I didn’t exactly picture my day ending like this.”

Homelander’s gaze shifted toward her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You didn’t?” he asked, though there was a trace of amusement in his voice. “Not even a little?”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t. But I’m not complaining.”

The silence between them was comfortable now, and she felt a strange, unexpected ease settle over her. She wasn’t entirely sure what things between them were—whether they were fleeting or something more—but for that moment, they were enough.

The quiet between them lingered a while longer, but eventually, there was a shift—one that Morgan could feel even before Homelander spoke. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his tone soft but probing. “About you... and Charlie.”

Morgan’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. She knew this conversation was bound to surface eventually, though she wasn’t sure she was ready for where it might lead.

He turned his head toward her, his gaze unwavering. “You almost had a family with him.”

The statement hung between them, weightier than the silence that followed. Morgan’s breath caught for a second, but she met his gaze, the vulnerability in it taking her aback slightly.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “We did. That was such a long time ago though.”

For a moment, Homelander said nothing, but there was an intensity in the way he looked at her, as if trying to piece together parts of a puzzle. Some part of Morgan was afraid to let her mind linger in his for much longer. There were certain avenues he contemplated exploring, and some of them she wasn’t sure she wanted to go down. At the same time, she wanted to have answers at the ready.

“I seem to remember you saying you really wanted the baby you lost.” he said, his tone uncertain as he began to tread into uncharted waters. “What stopped you from trying again? I mean, obviously Charlie was a tool and starting a family with him was an awful idea, but… In all that time, you never wanted to try with anyone else?”

Morgan’s gaze flickered, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. She really didn’t want him to go there—not like this, not now. But there it was, laid bare between them. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight as she searched for the right words.

“It wasn’t that simple,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Losing the baby... it broke something in me. Something I didn’t know how to fix. After that, I wasn’t sure I could put myself through it again.” Her eyes dropped, focusing on the pattern of the covers instead of his piercing gaze. 

She hesitated, feeling his gaze still fixed on her before continuing, “Trying again—it never felt like an option. Not with anyone.”

Homelander stayed quiet for a moment. She could sense his curiosity deepening, though, pushing him to understand her in a way no one else had. His voice was softer when he finally spoke. “And now?”

The question hit her harder than she anticipated. Something about hearing that curiosity voiced out loud hit her like a punch to the gut. Morgan glanced up at him, meeting his gaze again.

“It’s not in the cards for me.” she said, her voice a little more pointed than she intended it to be. “I’m well into my thirties, I’ve got one hell of a career I’ve just settled into and…”

There was no room for something as pure as that in her current situation. 

Especially not with him. 

“I’m not sure I was meant to anyway,” she continued. “I thought I was safe at sixteen weeks. Running the risk of not carrying to term again is higher for me now, and I don’t think I could go through that again.”

His expression was thoughtful, and a flicker of disappointment flashed through his mind. That wasn’t the only thing, however. There was the briefest thought of a boy that crossed his mind, but it wasn’t the one she had seen before. The boy in his memories she was used to seeing was him, but this one… He had a son.

It was immediately apparent that he didn’t want her to know about him. Not quite yet anyway. So, she stifled any sort of reaction she might have had and filed that bit of information away for later. 

“Sorry, these probably aren’t the sort of questions you want to be answering right now.” he muttered, shifting slightly beneath her. 

“Hey, it’s okay, really.” she reassured him gently, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze without having to crane her neck. “You’d be surprised how quickly this sort of thing jumps into most people’s minds. It’s one of those weird, instinctual things that I think is instilled into most of us.”

Homelander's lips twitched, almost as if he were about to say something more, but he held back. His eyes lingered on her, a quiet understanding passing between them, before he finally let out a soft chuckle. “This is nice,” he admitted, shifting slightly, though his gaze never left hers. “Talking like this.”

She smiled softly, sensing a shift from the conversation to something lighter. “Yeah, it’s nice not to be at each other’s throats all the time.” she teased gently, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead.

His eyes glinted with something familiar—a spark of amusement, perhaps even relief—and he tilted his head, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture. “I don’t know, you seemed to like having my teeth at your throat earlier.” he quipped, his voice low and playful. 

For a moment, the intensity between them eased, the earlier tension dissolving into something more comfortable. Morgan felt the corners of her lips tug upwards as the warmth of the quiet moment settled over them.

“Hey, you just count your lucky stars that my armor covers my neck.” she scolded playfully. “Otherwise we’d have to explain this whole thing to HR, I’m sure.”

That was enough to get a soft laugh out of him. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or awkward—just quiet, the kind that spoke of understanding and unspoken agreements. Morgan let herself relax into it. Not even the unspoken question at the tip of his tongue concerned her. She already knew how she wanted to answer.

“I’d like to stay.” she murmured softly, laying back down against his chest again. “People are definitely going to talk tomorrow, but right now, I really couldn’t give a damn if I tried.”

Homelander’s arm instinctively wrapped around her, the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the quiet space between them. For the time being, neither of them had to worry about appearances, expectations, or the outside world pressing in.

“Let ‘em talk,” he murmured, his voice low and content. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck either.”

Morgan smiled against his chest, feeling the all the strain of the day slowly slipping away. For now, she could just exist in the stillness, without the pressure of their respective roles hanging over them. They were just two people, caught in a moment of peace before the world outside inevitably pulled them back in.

Tomorrow would come soon enough—but that night, it was just them.

Song: Samson by Regina Spektor “You are my sweetest downfall, I loved you first.” Author’s notes: Lucky number 13! They finally did the deeeeeeed! I really don’t have too much to say about this chapter, other than I was kicking my feet and giggling the whole time I was writing it. It’s a touch short, but I didn’t want the whole focus of the chapter to be on the act itself. I mostly wanted to capture the mood and everything surrounding it.  It’s such a pivotal point for them, and I could imagine it all being such a blur of so many emotions, sensations and just a hell of a thing for either of them to fully conceptualize.  Don’t worry, there will be more moments like this, but I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know what you thought!

Next Chapter.

[mayomkun]

Crowley is all sharp pointy lines and exaggerated expressions (love it) while Aziraphale has a very polite face and disposition, of which I feel like it’s easy to mess up when drawing

Yeah! They have different kind of difficult I think. Azi should be easier for me since I'm more used to drawing something soft/round, but his features are harder to get right for some reason, especially straight face/looking at the camera angle (idk what's it's called).

Crowley's expressions are mostly exaggerated, plus he's always moving about so there's gotta be some movement in there. It sounds easy but not really asfgdjk. I feel like you have to really 'gets' him to get him right idk. He'd give me a lot of trouble if I have no muscle memory of drawing DT's characters.

People who can capture their characters are sooo so cool really. I hope to get there some day :>