#we sketched mannequins

[avoiltaire]

day 9: black & white

i forgot to erase the sketch b4 inking..

[quilleth]

twitter’s still scary to share things on but i’m kind of liking how this is turning out so far. so i’m actually sharing something for wip wednesday for once....will i get it done by august 7 for moshang week? who knows? not me

[slayersins]

tomura fled the country actually and he is living with me now, sorry for not telling you guys sooner

[whore4abby]

heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

[birbs89]

cool things and interesting stuff I saw in the new spooky month episode and just me obsessing over it lol

WARNING!: major spoilers for the new spooky month episode

I really liked Father Gregor because honestly his design is cool in my opinion and I liked that even though he's a priest who in other shows I've seen are almost always made as good and flawless people but in spooky month Father Gregor still has his flaws especial his flaw with how fast he went to blaming Skid and Pump for being the ones who caused Moloch to be freed (there kinda at fault but c'mon their kids)

also Moloch has to have my FAVORITE design for a demon I've seen in media I love how he has the hooves like one's that goats have since how much goats are associated with demons, I adore the furnace type of thing seen on his stomach, and I like how his hands and claws look

and also because Moloch created in my personal the funniest scene in the episode when he panics when his name is revealed to Father Gregor by Pump

also some things about Moloch possession it seems that he can just posses anyone he decides to posses and that he can also posses and control multiple people at a time and when he is not possessing a body he is either in his demon form or in a liquid form

final thing about Moloch is that I kinda feel bad for him for some reason (I think it's just because of how sad Skid and Pump were when seeing that Father Gregor killed him)

also feel incredibly bad for Dexters mom poor girl had to experience the loss of her son and then be lured and killed by the same demon who was the reason her son died

also can we PLEASE give Lila a break poor girl is going through actual hell

Pumps eyes seem to only be blue when he's in a very dark area

and I think from the implications and things Father Gregor said I think Skids father is dead maybe dying sometime when he was in the cult

love how Ignacio just without a second thought shoots Moloch and I think the scene is a reference to Silent Night, Deadly Night 2 specificality the Garbage Day scene since he shoots Moloch right after putting down a garbage can

also speaking of Ignacio I think he might have been an ex cult member since the picture frame where he's holding the birthday cake I think that might be Skids dad also holding the cake with him and if he is a ex cult member it explains why he's boarded up and barricaded his house since they might have tried to kill him in the past

father of the year award goes to John (also Jack) because of how caring this man is to comforting Skid and Pump when they start thinking they aren't good enough and are a problem to their parents and of how much a good father he was to his daughter

love every scene we got with Patty during this episode (also she's very pretty :])

also thought this guy with the briefcase was a reference to Doug from the Fnaf movie lol

also it's revealed in the ending of the episode seen on the NewGrounds version of the episode that the two thief's and the Candy Dealer are apart of the cult so I guess I was right about them having something to do with the cult in my theory

also we get to see the spider monster we saw in a sketch Sr Pelo posted (can't find and if I did couldn't add it since image limit:[) I think it might be the main villain of the next episode and It seems to be in some way connected with the mannequin/Skids dad from the mannequin theory (if it's cannon idk) since at the end of the episode the spider picks the mannequin up and looks at it

we get to see the The Eyes of the Universe in this episode and I was right in my theory that he was located under the cults mansion since we see the cultist take Father Gregor their to be sacrificed in the end of the episode

also Roy seems to be losing it at this point

[suzuran777]

Nitro Chiral April Fools’, 2005 - 2021

Nitro Chiral recently announced that they will probably not create any new content for April Fools’ in the future. I remember really looking forward to this every year, so I was a bit sad to hear that...! They mentioned that they might change this decision again some day, so we will just have to wait and see... To remember all of the fun jokes they’ve created throughout the years I wanted to make a fun compilation of all their previous April Fools’ jokes (or at least the ones I remember and took screenshots of). Maybe someone already posted something similar, but I had a lot of fun looking at these old pictures again! 

2005 Togainu no Chi 'Vischio Jack'. This was just one month after Togainu no Chi was released! Nitro Chiral’s website was filled with Arbitro’s hobbies. He announced that the next game will be called ‘Makeinu no Chi’ which means ‘blood of the losers’... The new main visual also shows all of them bleeding from their noses lol.

Some interesting new items... the Shiki body pillow?

2006 A year later Arbitro hijacked the official website once more and comments on each Lamento character. He seems to be a fan of Konoe but the others aren't his type... This blog describes it in greater detail (Japanese only). Second part of the website teases the Togainu no Chi fighting game (咎狗の血 餓狗 Mark of the Dogs). I kind of wish they really made this game because the description of it sounds fun.

2007 Lamento Love Love Gakuen, which was later made into a real drama CD also started as an April Fools' joke! Asato is Konoe’s childhood friend in this, Rai the student council president and Bardo’s a health education teacher. 

You can still listen to some of the audio clips from the original page here! The plot doesn’t seem much different than the real drama CD they ended up making later. 

2009 Nitro Chiral mentioned they couldn’t do anything for April Fools’ 2008, but they were back in 2009 with..one of the weirder ones. They posted a teaser of their new game, ‘Sweet Potchari’ which literally means ‘sweet chubby’ and as the name suggests, they posted art of all of the sweet pool characters, but this time they’re chubby.

You could check the profile description of each character and Kunihito’s description mentions that he’s very charming and “both men and women love him” lol. I unfortunately don’t have any high quality versions of these wallpapers anymore. Someone also recorded the voice lines, though listen to it at your own risk.

2010 This time Nitro Chiral announces a new project called 'YO! Akira'. It’s Togainu no Chi except all of the characters are replaced by mannequins and they’re kinda terrifying. They made videos in which they re-created part of the opening and the game, which someone actually saved and uploaded, so you can still watch it here...! The whole thing is a parody of Japanese sketch comedy series 'Oh! Mikey!!' which focuses on an American family living in Japan, but all the characters are played by mannequins.

This blog has some more pictures of what the website looked like. The day after this Nitro Chiral made a blog post about maybe spending too much time creating these April Fools’ jokes, but it seems like they had fun! They also had no idea what to do with the mannequins after this.

2012 I think they skipped 2011 because I cannot find any information about it, so let’s move on to 2012! Arbitro took over the Nitro+Chiral website again and changed it to Bitro+Chiral...

You could play this short visual novel on the website in which Arbitro introduced his new product line-up. A hataki (feather duster) shaped like Konoe’s tail, a life-sized Akira statue made of chocolate, Onnushi-sama's curry, and blue butter which is supposed to decrease you appetite so you don't have to eat anymore. After looking at these last two pictures I think I don’t feel hungry anymore...

This is also the year DRAMAtical Murder was released, so they changed the website too! Now it’s DRAMAtical Mother, which is of course referencing the Mother series (Earthbound). You can find some more screenshots and information here.

Aoba got his own Twitter account too this year, which someone also archived here! The Twitter account actually still exists but I believe they locked it after April Fools’ ended. 

2013 This year they focused on DRAMAtical Murder too! They transformed the website into Junkshop Heibon's webstore (the store Aoba works at in the game). It feels kind of nostalgic... 

That same year they also released a radio show in which Aoba and Mizuki work for Midorijima Radio Station. They invite Koujaku, Noiz, Clear, and Mink as special guests. This has been uploaded and fan translated, so I definitely recommend checking it out here! They also ended up selling this as a CD later.

2014 This is one I remember very well because I remember playing the short game they released. It's called ‘Osu-Boys!! ~Ikemen Ryoujoku ☆ Paradise~’ and it's a short visual novel which features the four protagonists, except they're all really clumsy and end up in some really embarrassing situations... I am guessing the artstyle is supposed to be similar to KyoAni’s Free! anime.

I don’t think I can show the full pictures here because the CGs of this game are quite NSFW, but you can probably still find them somewhere online. Aoba worked at an adult goods shop in this game though, nice new job (?). Unlike the browser games, this one could be downloaded, so some people probably still have it.

2015 Arbitro once again returns and opens his own 'hentai' museum.... yeah. Someone uploaded the theme song they made for the website, you can find it here. I believe it’s supposed to be a parody of ‘Atami Hihokan’ (an adult museum).

The website shows a map of the museum and its facilities, some more pictures can be found here. I think the art of the mascots is pretty cute this time...

You could also play this minigame on the website which also featured the four protagonists. There’s still a video of someone playing through the game, so definitely check it out if you’re interested. The artstyle has a bit of a retro feel.

2016 This year the website turned into the 'Raira-ryuu honpo' official homepage, an art school that specializes in the traditional art of ...boys love. All of the characters are drawn like famous Ukiyo-e paintings.

All of the ones above are Tōshūsai Sharaku paintings, so it was pretty easy to find which ones they were referencing!

They also re-drew all of the game covers too and the descriptions of the games were pretty funny. Midorijima was transformed into a big red-light district and the people who lived there were kicked out and are now living in poverty. I hope you’re surviving, Aoba...

This time there was also a flash game which could be played on the website, a shunga (erotic painting) puzzle. You can find all of these pictures here. Like the previous year they are heavily censored and not really NSFW. 

2017 This time the April Fools’ joke is a parody of 'The World of GOLDEN EGGS', a Japanese animation series set in an American-style fictional town, except this time it’s called ‘BOYs LOVE Nitro+CHiRAL’. I’m assuming most people who have been in the fandom for some time remember this one. They created a short YouTube video series and it had English subs. You can still find the videos if you look for them on YouTube so please watch them...! It’s all worth it for Konoe singing ‘I’m in Blue’ and the Rhyme fight.

Youji is always the victim of these awkward conversations... Some more pictures here! You can find the YouTube videos by just searching for the title of the series mentioned above.

2019 After 2017 they stopped updating their website on April Fools’, probably because they were busy working on Slow Damage, but in 2019 they did post some extra illustrations. Not the most happy kind of illustrations, featuring the protagonists and Naito-kun apologizing because they couldn’t do anything for April Fools’ that year...

2021 Unfortunately this is the last one! 2021 is the year Slow Damage was released, so it makes sense the final April Fools' joke focuses on them. It's called 'Warau Euphoria', which means ‘laughing euphoria’. It’s a reference to Japanese series 'The Laughing Salesman', so they're also drawn in a similar artstyle. 

The website has a warning that you need to be over 35 years old to enter instead of the usual 18+ warning lol. They also got Towa’s voice actor to record a couple of new lines on the webpage, if you click here you can still listen to a recording of it.

I’m a bit sad they might not do any of this stuff anymore in the future, but I’m also glad many people recorded videos of the old websites and minigames so we can still enjoy them even now. I couldn’t include every single screenshot in this blog post, so I tried my best to link other pages with more information.

I had a lot of fun checking out their website every year and I really appreciate the effort they put into all of this. I might update this blog with some additional info later!

[doodle-girl]

*cracks knuckles* Okay folks (@arkaix)

DOAI Possum Ramble 2 Electric Boogaloo: The Office

So basically if you already got what’s to know about the Modern Prometheus AU, then you most likely know about the whole “Lankmann feeling the eyes of the writers of this AU”/“If Pastra isn’t writing this story, then who is?” thing. Well, as shown in the last coupla reblogs of this thread, one idea is that we (the DOAI tumblr fandom) are basically all doing our fandom craziness in some kinda big office setting where we’re able to peer into the AUs we make via eyes, those eyes appearing somewhere in the world when we’re observing.

Cut to like an hour or smth later after @corrupteddoodles and I went ham in dms about worldbuilding >:]

Welcome to the DOAIblr Offices; where your ideas become a reality outside this one™️ (art and caption by @corrupteddoodles )

So basically what’s to know is that the inside of the building itself doesnt really follow the rules of reality all too much, it’s just doing it’s own thing to go along with our own craziness. Each member of DOAIblr has their own hallway of sorts, representing ourselves as creators. Some people’ve already started designing their own hallways!! Each hallway has doors (number of doors varying per person) leading towards different office spaces (which will be talked about a bit more later) representing the AUs we’ve created. If an AU has multiple creators, the door will manifest in several hallways.

The Sitcom AU door is pretty much a wildcard and is basically in everyone’s hallway, as that doesn’t really have a “creator” and is a big hodgepodge of everyone’s ideas and stuff (@purplechaosguardian sparked the original idea for it but being completely honest this au doesnt truly “belong” to one or a few people, it’s kind of a big group effort). It might as well be its own hallway with how absolutely huge it is.

I like to imagine that if an AU isn’t revealed to the public just yet (i.e @blazefirefox ‘s swap au as seen in her hallway), then to anyone who isn’t a creator the door kinda looks like what a door in Encanto looks like before a Madrigal kid gets their gift, if you’ve seen that movie. To a non-creator, it’s basically a regular door radiating with creative energy, if you listen closely you can hear small barely intelligible whispers of lore and ideas. Until it’s revealed to the public, only the creator(s) can see what the door really looks like, and only the creator(s) can get into it.

Getting into the offices themselves, the insides are basically amalgamations of different elements of the AUs themselves, all of them having different sheets inside for character refs and character sheets and lore and etc etc. For some decor examples, the inside of the Williams Foundation AU office would most likely be bathed in green and have various gadgets and etc for sciencey stuff™️. The Ragstra’s Show AU office would most likely resemble the backstage of a theater, with some mannequins/dolls and thread strung about.

What’s important to note is that each and every office has an Orb™️ in the center, representing the AU itself. The orb in the sitcom au basically takes up half the room with how big it is. (One thing to note: the orb for the Modern Prometheus AU starts to crack once Lankmann realizes the 4th wall/the writers)

The orb also acts as a way to “observe” and peer into the AU, said observing being how the eyes manifest into the world of the AU. Of course, the eyes shouldn’t be visible to the characters of the AU. *casually uses this as an opportunity to show off some of my own wip eye designs* *I plan to do more but this is what I did so far lmao*

These are all based on respective sonas/representative ocs ahehe (Idk what color the Tigera eyes would be but the Ark eyes are supposed to be teal lmao I just pulled it from a wip sketch) (Also purplechaosguardian doesnt have a sona iirc so in my mind theyre just Big Fuckin Purple Eyes heh)

Also this isn’t necessarily worldbuilding important but I think it’s fun to note: A potential scenario in the Modern Prometheus AU where someone accidentally no-clips out of the office and into the AU since the fourth wall is already breaking and someone has to come get them so there’s no more existential crises lmao

Aaaaaaaand that’s all I can think of for now!! As you can see we have once again spiralled into infinity with an idea and had a blast with it the whole way through :] 👍 This idea is definitely still in development and open to all to add ideas to, of course, as has been this whole thing for a while hehe <3 The possum is done with it’s screaming for now and shall be here if you need it again later o7

[soranker]

hi….! any chance we can see your art process ? it’s fine if not! i was wondering if u do a sketch before your lines or you just skip directly to lineart? your art is very beautiful!

HI!!! AUGGHHHJHH THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH T__T my art style is kinda simple imo so my process is pretty bare-bones ^^;; there's not rly much too it!! it also kinda changes depending on how uhhhh lazy im feeling in the moment HAHA

probably around half of my drawings are straight to line art bc they're rly just doodles or things i decide to draw without any planning (but also im kinda impatient so i try to skip the sketching step if i can LOL...). but if i DO have a specific pose in mind for a drawing, i'll start with a sort of mannequin sketch or loose pass, then depending on how messy it is, ill either do the lineart pass on the layer on top or duplicate the sketch and then clean it up.

and then my coloring process is not sophisticated at all i just create a new layer and then paint bucket tool away LMAOOOO

here's an example of a drawing where i did sketch first ^_^

[dizzyisdizzy]

Can we get a tutorial or time lapse of a drawing? :3

This Luka is very recent.

A tutorial for the whole process would be very extensive but here's the summary.

quick sketch that shows off the essentials of the silhouette/pose/composition. The amount of detail varies wildly.

A mannequin on top of the first sketch. The specifics of the pose and body proportions are the focus.

Clothes drawn on top. The mannequin is at a lower opacity underneath so I'm accurate with how the clothes settle, but eventually I'll merge the layers together and shift to focusing on appealing shapes over accuracy.

Take 5-10min to do something else and have my fresh eyes look for any weird issues to fix. Then the lineart's cleaned up. I'll note that the same brush is used for the entire process. lineweight should feel varied and spontaneous and not too clean as to feel uniform.

Convert lineart to one color (usually high SAT). Flat colors underneath and then a tier of shaded colors according to light source. Adjust lineart color further to differentiate hair/skin/clothes etc.

Color's a real mess from here. There's no linear process. I just make changes as I decide an area needs more color, or more '3dness', contrast, etc. It's vibes really, which isn't a great answer to work with but there is no concise way to write down my stream of consciousness here. If you do have a very specific quirk or styling you wanna know I probably can give a much better answer (there is usually SOME rhyme or reason to it).

[champcargill]

✨ MJF x Female!Reader fluff. Feedback is welcome — still a work in progress but hoping to finish by Xmas or New Years. This is my first writing since late 2019 — writer's block hit heavy (snippet below):

"Sure Thing" — MJF x Female!Reader Context: The four times Max knew he was in love with you and the fifth time when he finally admitted it.

[I: The First Time]

He stopped at a sketch, hidden meticulously in the back of the thick pad and marked differently from the others. It would’ve been easily missed if he had been distracted. His brow furrowed, analyzing the outline of the model and the clothing it wore: white trunks patterned with stripes in khaki, red, and black.

“This model looks a lot like me. (y/n/n), did you—” 

Max thought back to the particular late nights in your basement three years earlier, as the finishing touches were put on a formal design made for a recent fashion competition: you directing him on where to tack needles on your mannequin as another horror movie played on the television in the background. He listened to your own wide-eyed dreams: designs in the biggest magazines, decorating shelves in the fanciest stores, your clothes on the hometown runways of New York, going international in Paris. Even before you had him try on the finished piece, the stacks of filled sketchbooks already told Max you were destined for something far greater.

“Surprise! You’ll need something else to wear besides shorts and a t-shirt once your training is complete.” 

“We can’t be sure I’ll be that good at this yet.”

“You wouldn’t have been talking about this nonstop for the last four years if you weren’t. I’m still thinking of a few other designs with you in mind.”

Time had stopped, if only for a brief moment, with the echoes of training sessions and the distant chatter of fellow wrestlers all fading into an otherworldly silence. Max blushed, eyeing the sketch once more, a rush of emotions swelling within him as he took in the notes scribbled on the side of the drawing: which materials wouldn’t trigger his allergies, strategically placed accents and the more intricate details only known from each late-night conversation. He could feel your head lean against his shoulder, your hand resting on his leg, waiting for him to speak. 

“Hello? Earth to Max.”

[days-until-burnout]

joel is having a panic attack in season 10 hc over missing lizzie and all the pressure falling onto him, but gem comes along and cheers him up with hugs and wholesomeness.

no little text because this is important-ish. i did no research on panic attacks, and have forgotten what i know about it, so this depiction may be inaccurate. however, i am still choosing to post it as is because otherwise, it would defeat the purpose of this challenge o7

_____

📧 Day 18 -

Characters - Gem & Joel Words - 1,190 Time - 47 mins Content - Hermitcraft | panic attack | hurt/comfort

“Do you like this?” Joel lifted his sketchpad, a rough sketch of a new build covering the new page. His fingers were colored with charcoal, the edges of the pages decorated with his fingerprints. He stares at the back of the sketchpad, tracing the outlines from pressing into the pages too hard, pictures the sketches in his mind. Counts the material, remembers what each shop sells, who sells what, what they charge, how many diamonds he has, did he have enough? Was it easier to get it himself? The material? Maybe the diamonds? Would it be easier to get the diamond ores to get more diamonds to go shopping to get the materials he needs to build something new? 

His fingers jerked. His eye twitched. His tail flicked. 

“Do you like it, Lizzie? It’s for you. I will build this for you. Here. No– Not here here, but on the server. For you. And– And I will take many photos. I will show you when I next see you. Soon. I will see you soon, Lizzie. I will show you everything I’ve done.” He lowered the sketchpad into his lap, the edges of the pages crumpling under his hands. He stared up at the statue of Lizzie, in her Ocean Empire attire, her blue skin, her long pink hair. Beautiful. Beautiful. His wife, his beautiful wife. He missed her. “I’ve done a lot, Lizzie. You’ll like it. We talked about it before, I’m doing it, Lizzie. Building it all. For you—”

Joel stared into dead eyes. Into the miniature replica of himself in her arms. His eye twitched. The pad of paper tossed to the side, replaced with the handle of a sword in his hand. 

One strike. Clean. The head came off. Now he could look at her in all her glory. He missed her a lot. 

“I’ll show you around,” he hummed, a small smile in his lips as he put his sword down. The sound of a decapitated mannequin head rolling echoed in the distance. “You’ll visit one day, I know. I’ll show you around when you visit.”

He grabbed his sketchpad, grabbed his charcoal, sat at the base of the statue by Lizzie’s feet, happily scribbling again. 

“You will like it. Everyone likes it, or at least they say they like it. You’ll like it, right, Lizzie? Of course you will. You wouldn’t lie to me. I’m doing everything, meeting expectations. I am. I have to be. My base– It’s big. It’s growing. No pressure. No pressure. They are friends, we are all friends, I think we are all friends. No pressure.”

The charcoal scratched the paper. He stared at useless, senseless lines. Stared until it lost meaning. Lavender fabric swayed on the corners of his eyes. Caught his attention. His hands– The hands in front of him, dirty with charcoal. Dirty. Why was he so close to the ground? The floor was dirty. His clothes– The clothes, dirty. He was breathing, right? He could hear it. Heaving. Shallow. Stuttering. That was his breathing? Right? Not the wind. The wind was more consistent. It was cold. That was the wind. No. What time was it? Why was his body not moving? His chest tight. Where was he? Whose hands were these? What were these scrabbles in the page?

Joel. 

That was his name. Joel. His name. Joel. 

Joel? 

Right? Joel, his name. That was his name.

Joel!

He snapped out of it when the world shook, unfocused eyes focused on the sunset, no– Not the sunset, just orange. Orange and blue. Pale skin. Green. Emeralds. Gems. Gem.

Gem!

“Gee, hint taken,” she huffed.

Joel blinked. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Sixseveneightnine—

Deep breath. 

“What are you doing? And why is your head gone?” She questioned, looked up above his head then back. What head? He had his head. It was right there, on his neck. A hand touched his cheek, pressed against it. Slightly cold. Windy, must be. A hand– His hand. His hand touched his face. “Are you jealous of your own statue? You’re losing it.”

Words. He needed words. A response. Words. Words. He was okay, he was not jealous. He needed words. Respond to her. 

He stared. Mouth agape. He had no words. 

“Joel?” 

Joel. His name. Gem. Her name. Right. That was right. 

Arms crushed his body. Tight. Anchor. Seasalt in the air, her hair. Soft leather, her vest. Her face, warm, against his. Slow breathing. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. In. Out. Slow, steady. Grounding. In. Out. In. Out. He closed his eyes, too bright. In. Out. In… 

“There, there, breathe out now, yeah, just like that. Good, you’re doing good.” She said, softly. Like the breeze. There was wind. He breathed out, followed her voice. Sound by sound until the words came back to his mind. Words, right. She spoke words. “Breathe. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Gem…”

“I know, I know, I’m here, you’re okay.” 

She placed a hand behind his head, threaded her fingers on his hair. She hummed, her voice, a light grumble from her throat into his shoulder. It tickled, like her curls. He concentrated, put all his thoughts into moving his hand again, pictured it in his mind, lifted it to brush her hair away from his nose and eyes. He breathed out, didn’t taste the salt in her hair. 

They sat on the shrine a while, until Joel could hold his own, then a while longer until Gem was satisfied. She pulled back, sat on her calves, he looked away in shame. Down at his sketchbook, at lines that roughly made up a box, more lines that made up windows and doors, vents and pipes. Slowly, it all came together, the clear image. It was a new building with another aquarium for axolotls. He wanted to increase his chances of getting a blue axolotl. Maybe it was a plan for another time.

He looked up at Gem eventually, and she smiled at him. She probably had questions, worries. He could see it in her eyes, in her expression. She was easy to read, and he twice as much. 

“Gem.”

“Joel.”

“Did you know tanukis are territorial?”

Her eyes widened. He smirked. She frowned. 

“Nuh-uh, you told me they were social. Highly social even. You can’t lie to me, Joel.”

“But what if I lied that other time?”

She squinted, “Nope. Not believing you. You are a big meanie, stinky liar.”

Gem huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned away. Joel giggled, slowly, slowly regaining control of himself. His ears flickered, his tail thumped behind him. Slowly, there was no rush. 

“Gem.”

“Joel.”

“You are in my territory.”

Before Gem could reply, Joel leaped forward, tackling her to the ground. She yelped, her fox traits popping out as he grinned. Soon, they were scuffling and rolling on the ground. Gem had charcoal prints in her clothes, Joel had a lighter feeling in his chest. She would understand. If she fought him the way she did, then he was sure she would understand. 

It was fine. He was fine. Or would be in time. Really. 

_____

not much to say today. other than take care of yourselves and those around you<3 do these two have a duo or ship name. i wonder

[loveaetingkids]

Book of Life theory:General Posada and Joaquin deleted “scenes” 

After scrolling through Gorge Gutierrez’s Tumblr blog mexopolis like a totally normal person would guys Im normal I promise,I stumbled upon this thread of Book of Life related designs and scrapped ideas. What caught my attention however,were two rough sketches of young Joaquin- an older kid and a teenager-interacting with General Posada:

These two shots seemingly take place during the music cutscene depicting Manolo and Joaquin growing up.On both of these pictures we can see Joaquin looking self-assured,smug even.Meanwhile Maria’s father has either guarded or concerned face,seemingly because of Joaquin. The shot on the left demonstrates it the best- here Mondragon Jr is training with a mannequin,while Posada tries to guide the boys hand with his,as if to show him the move.General has a displeased expression,but teenage Joaquin has pretty much the “I’m better then you old man” look. These scenes are interesting in a way that in the original movie,we never see General Posada being annoyed with Joaquin,thinking of him as “a son he never had”(he sure does love Maria).So this change in their relationship may have several reasons:

1)Posada started suspecting something was up with Joaquin’s strength that seemingly came out of nowhere.Not knowing about the Medal of Everlasting Life,Maria’s father expressions can be interpreted as a sign of distrust.Perhaps the fact that Captain Mondragon went mad from the medal and chopped off General’s arm(as it was stated in trivia of character wiki) would’ve played a role in it.

2)General felt threatened by Joaquin’s skills.From the movie we know that Posada is quite an arrogant person who rarely listens to others.That is why these scenes can depict General Posada fearing that Joaquin will continue climbing up the hierarchical ladder until the latter takes his position.

Now here comes the most interesting part:the audience knows that General has a few soldiers who are supposed to guard San Angel,but are in fact useless. Why didn't Maria's father assign Joaquim to defend the city with his unit instead of forcing him to stay in San Angel by marrying his daughter? I speculate that the deleted cut of the movie has an answer for that.Keeping the reasons listed above,it is possible that General let Joaquin defend other cities from bandits on purpose,to keep the latter away from him because of uneasiness/jealousy.Only after the bandito’s attacks became more frequent,General decided to use Maria (because let’s be frank,there’s no better word for it)  as an anchor for his best soldier.

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (2)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Two: Strain Curve (see previous or series)

IMPORTANT: I forgot to mention and link that this started with an anon ask, so I should give them credit for the idea. Here's where this all started! Additionally, Richard Fisk is an actual Marvel character and the son of Kingpin. All that is straight out of the comics (and animated shows), down to the horrible color choices.

Summary: Steve shelters you from Fisk while attempting to hide the truth from Tony. He's not a great liar...but how much of this is really fake?

Warnings for fluffy fluff of the 21st-fluffery with a teeny bit of angst, 100% idiots in love! Also a quick disclaimer about me knowing exactly diddlysquat about fashion design. I binged 'Next In Fashion' and so this is the best I got lol... WC 4066

You watch Steve blush at your attempted smile. He paws at the back of his head before gathering another confession.

“Actually, I do have—I mean, yes, I wanted to see you, but uh—“ he rushes over to fetch a paper bag he must have stashed as he snuck in behind the cops “—I did have a reason to come.”

In the bag, you find three shirts, and your smile turns more genuine.

“Of course, you did. How romantic.”

You’re still awash with adrenaline; there’s no filter to keep your teasing at bay. You can barely pick up that you said anything anyway.

Steve shrugs, looking down to take back the shirts as Abby returns with a glass of water for you. “Not my best move.”

You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it. Abby gently pries Steve’s shirts from his tense arms.

“Right.” Steve rolls his shoulders out, straightening and clearly falling into Captain mode. “We need to get you somewhere safe. I just have to make a few calls and—“

“Don’t tell Stark,” you blurt, hand instinctively grabbing the wrist that holds his phone ready. “I’m sorry. That sounded like an order, just…please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tony can’t know that Fisk has been using you as a tailor as well. He can’t. 

Alarm and curiosity flicker behind Steve’s blue eyes, but he hides it well immediately. “Ok. I’ll—” he makes no move to take his arm back “—think of something.”

“And I have three clients left…for the day.”

Abby tsks you from behind though it’s the truth. The empty glass rattles on the tabletop with your faint tremor.

Steve thinks for a prolonged, squinting moment. “After work then. I’ll pick you up.”

You run off adrenaline and butterflies the rest of the day, and yes, whatever liquids or snacks Abby and Dominica (when she returns from her errand) put into your hand along the way, but mostly it’s the fluttering anticipation of Steve that floats you through.

And then he’s back and it’s already dark outside.

“Oh shit,” you burst, politely showing Mr. Chen out while Steve waits his turn to get in the door. He says nothing, but Captain America lowers his head in disapproval at your curse. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Let me grab some things.”

You race up the stairs to the apartment over the shop. Your clientele and brand used to be small enough that you could keep those two sides of life separate, but slowly, your work has crept into your living space. Now you survive from a dresser, a hanging rack, and a Murphy bed that doubles as a small desk when it’s upright against the wall.

Not much of an existence, but it’s very practical.

You’re shuffling around with an overnight bag and a dump tote to grab mostly work things and two changes of clothes. One of your assistants can bring you more stuff if/when necessary, but it feels presumptive to think you’ll live out of a safe house for long.

“So…working to live or living to work?”

You jump at Steve’s deep voice from the open doorway. He looks around at the hodgepodge of work benches and mannequins lining the walls.

“It’s a fluid and evolving situation,” you admit, sweeping several binders of fabric swatches and sketch pads into the tote. You eye a work-in-progress on one of the dummies and decide against trying to take it. Too bulky.

In order not to keep Steve waiting, you hand over the tote and head to the car, texting Abby and Dominica instructions the whole drive. Steve assures you that you’ll still have wifi and freedom to communicate, so you don’t have to clear fittings and consults off the books. It simply won’t be wise to invite welcome clients into where you’re staying.

Admittedly, that’s very generous considering you could have been looking at a blackout, witness-protection level of hiding.

You’re still on your phone when Steve opens your car door, and you shuffle with your duffel, his feet at the edge of your periphery to follow. It doesn’t register that you walk down a long hall. It doesn’t register that there’s an elevator ride and another voice. It doesn’t register that you’re looking at a kind of hostel-esque apartment inside another building until you ask if there’s a space you’ll be able to spread out for work.

Steve glows with pride that he thought of that and walks you to a conference room…surrounded by glass…overlooking a 30-story high view of the city.

You’re in the Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to know.”

Steve gets your confusion right away. “Tony doesn’t, but without filing paperwork stating the reason you need a safe house, this was the best—“

“Sheers!” the booming voice of one Tony Stark reverberates across 360 degrees of windows. “I thought it might be you.”

“Might be me for what?” you ask as innocently as possible.

“As Capsicles’ first, of course.”

Steve hangs his head while his pal claps him on the back.

“First use of his guest pass that is. Granted, I’ve been saying for years we need an in-house tailor, but no takers…” Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”

Steve shoots wary eyes your way, silently praying you ignore that remark or maybe checking you’re okay with the implication. The way Stark says ‘your girl’ as if he’s heard it several times before though…

“Something like that,” you shrug. 

“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”

“Language,” you hiss quietly.

The men look a little shocked for a split second before slowly turning to each other, a silent conversation passed in the empty space over your head. Whatever just happened seems to have really convinced Tony because a wry smile flickers beneath his sinking, pale sunglasses. Yes, of course, Tony Stark is wearing sunglasses at night, just as, of course, Captain America is willingly deceiving Stark to be your fake boyfriend. 

“Romeo,” the building’s namesake coos. “Training them young, I see.”

Steve’s jaw and neck tighten, a raging flush creeping up his pale skin, but he doesn’t argue. Stark buys the ploy, which is great, but in reality, Steve doesn’t even have your personal number.

Tony lifts his hands in surrender and starts retreating to the door. “Look, I hate to take credit—“

“No, you don’t.”

Incredulous, sagging eyebrows dip below his frames. “—but I am very, very good.” He points a finger back and forth between you and Steve. “You’re welcome.”

He tries to peek under a pile of sketches atop your work tote, and you rush to slap your hand down. Stark might see the other designs you’re working on, and just like he can’t know about Fisk, he can’t know about those.

“Fine.” Tony puts his hands up again. “I’m going.”

Steve steps to your side, apology loud in his eyes, and asks if he can make you tea or something stronger, ya know, because Tony has that effect on people.

“Yeah—“ you stare off toward the elevators where Stark remains lurking “—he’s still there,” you whisper.

Steve huffs a laugh and shifts to bridge the mere inches left between you, his hand gently landing on your upper arm and planting a kiss on your forehead like a breeze.

“Better make it look good then.”

Turns out you need tea and food.

You’d been so reliant on your assistants for nourishment that you forgot dinner. Steve sees; he has it covered. Instead of winding down after a trying day, however, you get a rush of energy, and you can’t squander the chance to make crucial adjustments. Every minute counts in the lead-up to Fashion Week.

“May I join you?” Steve asks, ready to walk away with his meal in hand should you prefer. “I won’t take up much space.” He looks down at his shoes and up the two inches above his head to the top of the doorframe. “Ok, much more space,” he corrects.

“You wanted to leave me alone?”

He bites back a smile and shakes his head, settling into the least cluttered corner.

He chats excitedly as you both eat, but after failing to pry some answers about Fisk from you,—‘are you often threatened by clients?’ and ‘can you steer him in another designer’s direction?’—Steve slips away to grab his own art supplies.

You’ve barely looked up until you get a surge of inspiration and search for your colored pencils under the pile of templates. How did they get all the way over there? Since when are red and grey so worn down? Weren’t you needing to replace both blues soon?

“Those in your way? I can move them?”

Steve stops sketching, holding a yellow pencil, the only color missing from the tin. That’s when you realize. He uses the same brand of pencils you do—tools made of quality materials but nothing overly fancy.

“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”

Steve sweeps a large hand out in offering. “Mistake away.”

You can’t help it. You chew your lip to calm your grin. He’s simply a very giving man who enjoys simple things. It’s refreshing.

“Or we could trade? We seem to use the opposite colors the most.”

“Right,” Steve laughs, “I went on a tear trying for Sam’s suit in-flight. Never turned out.” Shaking his head dislodges a lock of hair, so he runs his fingers through the strategic coif.

“Hmm,” you hum absently, engrossed by his picturesque appearance, “my drawings are more like guidelines for my imagination. No need to be precise.”

“A sentiment I’ve heard many times before.” He slides the tin closer to the midway point between you. “I just want to do beauty justice, which sounds pretentious but…

“Point is—“ Steve lifts his gaze to you with a soft shrug “—use whatever you like.”

You thought your work habits were grueling, but poor Steve flits around at all hours of the day and night with workouts, training, meetings, and missions. He mostly gets to do drive-by waves of ‘hello’ as he travels the building past your glass bubble, always with a smile, always with a tinge of something else. He’s an easy man to read: you can tell when he’s fatigued (in spirit though, not body), you can tell when he’s irritated from stress, and you can tell when he wants to linger but has to go.

It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.

You continue with business as usual as best you can, video calling during consults and the most critical fittings. Clients aren’t exactly happy with your absence, but they don’t dare complain when the alternative is waiting another month for you to schedule in person. Besides, there are oftentimes you step away from routine appointments to focus on creating new lines.

Dominica is allowed to walk right in with any of your requested supplies since she’s delivered to Stark several times before. She stays for a few hours to touch base. She assures you that Tarik is no longer unnerved by the police car that sits at the curb outside the atélier’s front door. Apparently, Abby takes the cops coffee a couple times a day.

All in all, it’s going well.

One day, you think Steve is showing up for one of your ‘sketch sessions’—where he sits in his own chair somewhere around the huge oval table and quietly works alongside you—but not today.

“They…it’s…” Steve plants his feet on the carpet across from you and looks behind him nervously. Anytime other people are near the room, he walks right over to you to kiss your cheek, a show to keep up the appearance of actually being a couple, but it’s late enough that no one is around. “We do movie night—we’re doing movie ni—we’re watching a movie if you’d like to join?”

You’re tempted to tease him, ask ‘where’s my kiss’ or something that makes that fiery blush creep up Steve’s face, but you grin back. “Sure. I could use the break.”

Honestly, no, you should be hammering out some details for the lapels of this blazer, but ehh, you’re also tired of staring at the same damn jacket.

Of course, this means the lot of them save you and Steve seats beside each other on a couch. You two have only ever sat in chairs in front of or separated by a table, so figuring out how to curl up next to the man you are not dating is an adventure in micro-expressions. You share a look that lasts about two seconds but contains a forty-five-minute discussion of how far is okay to take this and agree that you want to keep up the charade.

Thus, Steve lifts his arm to drape across your shoulders, and you lean into his chest.

It’s a good fit, good enough that you wake up two hours later not knowing what the movie was about and starting to sweat from being so close to his very warm body.

Maybe it’s the eye convo or maybe napping directly on him tells Steve how comfortable you are with him, but either way, he changes to giving a kiss on the cheek or forehead every instance he sees you, no exceptions.

After a week of remaining on the same floor of the same skyscraper and doing nothing but working, sleeping, and movie-sleeping, you’re at your wit’s end, longingly staring out the window at the city below.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he enters the conference room. Forehead kiss this time. His lips feel soft and warm as they ghost over your skin.

“Stuck,” you mutter.

His hand smooths across your back. “Well, how do you normally get unstuck?”

“I go for a walk through the park.” You know you can’t go outside, but it’s difficult to wrangle every bit of bitterness at your captivity. You appreciate all Steve is doing to make it so Fisk can’t get to you, but you need fresh air.

Steve sighs like he’s mad at himself before spinning around the room. “Right.” He grabs your hand. “Come with me.”

In the elevator, Steve explains that in keeping with the eco-friendly intent of the new clean energy tower, Tony made half of the rooftop a greenhouse and the other half a garden. The walking paths are all moss-covered, but there are no benches. Just outside the elevator doors are folding chairs, and Steve grabs two.

On separate chairs with no table in sight, you two watch the sunset on the other side of the building from your work room. You take in a big breath of the chilly air and shiver, completely content to experience freedom away from climate control, but Steve rushes back into the greenhouse to retrieve a blanket from the stack beside the chairs.

“Here ya go,” he stumbles, leaning to tuck the fabric around you. “I should have brought us tea or something,” but when he makes to leave this time, you take his hand.

“You’ll miss it.” He’s probably seen the view from here a million times before, but you don’t want him to go. “Stay,” you say in a whisper.

Steve visibly softens, shoulders dropping, eyes alight. “Yeah?” He sits again and looks at the nearly cloudless sky. “Yeah.” He slouches to get comfy in the small and unsupportive chair, but he looks so at home bathed in the warm pink light. “Each time’s a bit different but—“ he turns to you, smiling “—this one’s better.”

Since the sunset sit-down, Steve makes a point to pry you away from the work area when he has time to hang out with you. The couch isn’t actually far away from the conference room, but it does mean you get to sit together, your feet in his lap while he reads a book, listening to his commentary on the author’s points or sketching aimlessly for fun.

The whole thing feels like a bizarre vacation, some alternate reality where your home life intersects with superheroes. Tony Stark may have been a sometimes-client, but he never let you attempt anything more custom than a three-piece suit. 

You’re not complaining; it’s just weird that Captain America is so average when his uniform comes off. He sinks his face into his palm when he’s sleepy. His yawn is outrageously adorable for how big the man is. He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions. His eyelids droop, and he repeats paragraphs when he can no longer keep his place on the page.

Steve Rogers could not be more normal, and for this reason, you find him extraordinary.

He gets dressed every morning while you’re there, no sweatpants, no workout wear—or, what did Sam call it? Athleisure? That’s not a word, right?—except for when Steve is actively working out. He thinks it’s too on-the-nose to wear your designs in front of you for days on end, but that limits his options significantly, considering how much of his wardrobe sports a Tovarich label. Good jeans and a black sweater will have to do because today he’s playing model.

It seems the mannequin Dominica hauled in for you isn’t close to the right proportions for your client so Steve volunteered, rewarded immediately with a gorgeous, toothy smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage.

Steve’s chatty but can’t help it.

There was one conversation a few days ago that unlocked so many memories he thought he’d lost.

While he peeked at a few of your sketches, you asked him about clothing in the 40s, and he took your notepad to doodle a bit. Steve drew a common dress from memory to show you girls he grew up with, the pleats and cinches in their exact spots because—now that he has your full and rapt attention—he thinks it’s important.

He’s had to recall maps, battle maneuvers, building layouts, and evil plans more times than he can count; no one’s ever asked him how his mother styled her hair or which shoes she wore to work at the hospital.

They’re just shoes, but Steve sat misty-eyed describing how Ma tied her laces a very specific way, the way she taught him to, the way he still ties them to this very day. He hadn’t thought of why in so long, and ever since, little details keep flooding back.

“Buck used to never tuck in his shirts,” Steve laughs as you nudge his arms higher to check his range of motion in the shoulders. “He’d fix the front half and leave a tail out in the back.”

You chuckle at that. “Unacceptable for proper ol’ Stevie,” you muse.

“No, it was not—“ he drops his head in shame “—and I’d remind him every time.” Steve spins, prompted by the pull of your hands at his waist. His face is on fire, but he promised to help you. He just has to ’suffer’ through your touch, he supposes.

How horrible…

“Sharp dresser, were you? Not a hair out of place?”

“Yes, ma’am, or…at least for my size I was.”

You’re deep in thought, pulling the bottom hem to check how it lays at his hips, checking the lining before buttoning him up. “These might be too flashy,” you mumble. “Gosh, I hope he likes this color.”

“Why not? It’s stunning,” Steve jumps too eagerly at the chance to praise the barely purple fabric. It’s that kind of illusion hue that might look black, navy, or its true shade in different lights.

“And the buttons?” you prod.

He tilts one of the stamped, dark nickel rounds to see the embellishment. “I’d consider that a signature touch of the Tovarich brand,” he beams.

Your elation is contagious until an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. You’re so startled you spring backward into a rolling chair and topple to the floor.

Steve scrambles to help you right yourself while the wailing screech continues, but he knows that noise.

Emergency.

He has to go.

You’re holding your elbow, flashing him a thumbs up, and Steve feels terrible yelling to ensure you’re okay.

Agents race past the glass walls, and he really has to run so off he goes, jacket still on.

An incredibly long seventeen hours later, Steve is returning to his room only to notice you’ve fallen asleep at the conference table. He’s pleased there is no bandage on your elbow, so the fall was no worse than bruising, but he refuses to leave you there.

Slowly peeling your face and hands from your drafting paper, Steve wrestles your flopping arms and limp legs into a solid hold to carry you to your own room.

You don’t wake up, not fully, only enough to grip the shoulder strap of his shield harness as he gently lowers you onto the unmade bed. Luckily, your MO is to kick off your shoes when concentrating on work, so once you release the leather attached to him, he pulls the covers over you.

He kisses your temple. “Night, Button,” he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.

You simply sigh and turn deeper into the pillow.

Steve purposefully finds you at breakfast to ask if you’d want to get lunch with him. Yes, it would just be in the cafeteria on the lower levels, and yes, you two have already shared many meals, but in his mind, this is the actual ask, the question of ‘will you go out with me’ instead of just ‘are you hungry at this reasonable time and may I be hungry in your vicinity.’

It’s stupid, he knows. He’s anxious for your answer anyway.

Steve has a very love/hate relationship with having you essentially trapped in the Tower. On the one hand, you’re starved for interaction and the choice of your surroundings. On the other hand, he gets you all to himself. He’s ashamed of how much he enjoys that perk. Somewhere deep inside, he hopes whatever Fisk is after is never resolved, but that’s wishful—and terribly selfish—thinking.

Just in case going on a deliberate date with him isn’t offer enough, Steve can return your client’s jacket. He hung it in his locker when changing into the tactical suit. It’s safe, but he’ll get it after his debrief. That’s a good excuse. That’ll work.

You’re happy and excited, only making him more nervous, but it’s progress. He’s done ‘round noon after the long meeting scheduled to start in, yikes, fifteen minutes, and you quickly agree. Steve floats on cloud nine, bouncing his foot until dismissed so he can rush back up to you.

He isn’t expecting to see Tony in your bubble.

“You don’t know me, Stark. How dare you!” Your face twists in fury. “Screw this,” you shout, frantic in grabbing your essentials from the table. “I don’t answer to you. I don't need this. Someone else will get my things.”

Steve doesn’t understand why you won’t meet his eye or speak to him as you barrel past. He’s too stunned to follow you to the elevator, it feels imposing to race down and corner you in the lobby, but he marches up to Tony with wide eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

Tony waves him off, cagy and dismissive, rushing off upstairs to his lab, and Steve almost asks if this is about Fisk. If it’s not and he blabs, then you’ll definitely be angry at him. If he grills Tony too much, there might be something that gives away that Steve lied about having a significant other as his guest for two weeks. If Steve admits that he doesn’t even have your number, the jig is 100% up.

But he knows you have his number, he knows he still has a jacket you’ll want back, and he knows one thing he’s incredibly good at.

So Steve waits, ready to apologize, ready to grovel, ready to yell at Tony for whatever. He is just ready and waiting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @darsynia

[Next Part]

[Light Masterlist; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[iheartjohnlennon]

hii, can you write Mick Jagger x famous fashion designer!female reader in which he irritates and begs her to design and sew Bianca's wedding dress until she accepts but then they often have sex and make out during "creative discussions" and when the dress is finally ready they kind of end up getting married instead? with THE dress.

Is it considered steal the groom if the groom himself takes the initiative to exchange the bride? lol this is kind of fucked up and I'm going to feel bad for Bianca but I think it's something Mick would definitely have the nerve to do. I honestly think it would be one of Rock's most tragicomic and iconic stories if it had happened.

I hope you see the appeal as I did, but feel free to ignore it if that's not your cup of tea. LOVE <3

'Luna, amore e no'

London, early '71

Tags: Infidelity, Smut, Orgasm, Emotional Conflict, Resolved Sexual Tension

A Saturday night in Chelsea

The boutique was adorned with fabrics that were shades and tones of purple, pink and white. Delicate mannequins were draped in her coquettish designs, and a scent of perfume filled the space.

It was a haven she had beautifully thought up for herself, and the thought had managed to garner her acclaimed and revered attention.

This shop in Chelsea was particularly popular, but now there was a quiet stillness of the Saturday evening, and it was a welcome change from the bustle of London during the daytime.

The clock struck 9 PM when Y/N entered the boutique, her sketchbook clutched in hand.

Her footsteps echoed through the front room and into the retail area before she entered her beloved office.

She shed her coat and placed her sketchbook down. She was about to settle into her desk chair with a few of her textiles in hand when she heard it ring.

 "Oh, Christ."

She threw down her silks and needles onto the nearby couch. The telephone had begun ringing, and she knew it was going to continue incessantly. She also knew it was going to do her head in.

She toyed with the idea of ignoring it, or perhaps letting it ring a little longer. Maybe he'd give up. But it persisted, each chime a reminder of his stupid determination. The reason why she lingered to pick up, was because she knew exactly who was calling, and why he was calling.

Although his want was clear the first time they very briefly spoke on the phone, he wanted more than that, and that loosely intrigued her.

Mick had strategically been ringing every Saturday when he could. It was a way to let her know he wasn't going to let her get away easily, not without having some part of her. She sighed into her seat and focused on her book, flicking through concepts and sketches.

"Fucking hell, it's like clockwork for him."

Her patience had quickly worn thin and she leaned forward, her fingers navigated the rotary dial. The ringing had finally ceased, replaced by a muffled dialogue.

The phone's receiver, cool against her palm, spoke to her. 

"Evening darling."

"Hello."

"Ah, Y/N, always a pleasure to hear your voice."

She was taken aback, yet swiftly regained her composure and brushed off his subtle flirt.

"What is it that you want, Mr Jagger?"

Mick's voice was ribbon and it flowed into one ear and right out of the other.

"Well, I was hoping for a chat with the most sought-after woman in London."

She couldn't suppress a scoff. 

"Yes, yes, yes, of course, but what is it that you want?" She pressed dismissively.

"I want the pleasure of your company."

Y/N's brow quirked, feeling an incredulity.

"Company? Mr Jagger, we haven't even agreed to a meeting."

Mick was unfazed and pushed on.

"Well, Bianca adores your work, you know. She'd be over the moon to have you design for her."

She tutted, "Oh, how touching. I'm sure she would."

"You really should give her the wedding dress she deserves, Y/N. I promise you won't regret it."

Y/N's breath hitched, caught off guard by the sweet audacity of his words. He was, after all, soon to be wedded.

"I'm sure Bianca would be thrilled to hear you're so invested in her gown."

Mick chuckled.

"Well, she deserves nothing but the best, and you, you are the best."

"Do you have a penchant for dresses, Mick?" She teased.

His response was swift and sincere.

"I have a penchant for the woman making the dresses."

She giggled, unable to stifle the sound. His persistence was both exasperating and endearing.

Mick was still adamant.

"You're the perfect designer for this, Y/N. Please, just give me- us a chance."

"Mhm."

Mick had to find more fuel, any excuse or plea to see her. 

"She's genuinely taken with your talent, Y/N. You're the only one she trusts for this."

Her resolve wavered, swayed by his flattery. With a soft sigh, she relented.

"Fine, fine. We'll meet."

He wasted no time in setting a date. "Yes, next Friday evening, preferably when we have the place to ourselves?"

"Ooh, just us, then?" She teased.

"I'd like that." He answered without hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow.

Mick's confidence remained unshaken.

"Regardless, love, I'll be waiting eagerly for our meeting, next Friday.

"Fine, next Friday it is."

She scrawled the date on a notepad, it was a flimsy agreement.

"I can't wait to see you, Y/N."

See he said. Why not meet? This was only business after all. 

"Likewise, Mick, likewise."

"Y/N, you're a gem, you know that?"

"Oh, don't let this get to your head, Jagger. It's just a design."

"Just a design? This is Bianca's dream we're talking about!"

"Well, I wouldn't ever dream of standing in the way of your wedding would I?"

"And I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting."

He had said that suggestively, although she didn't want to see it that way.

"Good. I have a reputation to uphold, after all, you know."

"And what a reputation it is."

She smiled and decided to cut his unwavering flattery short, "Goodbye, Mick."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

When Mick heard the click of the phone, it was a call back to reality, and that reality was enticing.

    *

The Friday

The door chimed and Y/N was standing poised near the entrance for him. Mick wasn't alone. He had brought a photographer with him by the looks of it, and he seemed eager to capture every moment of this collaboration.

There was an attraction between them as they stood close.

He immediately extended his hand, the gesture was as smooth and as handsome as the man himself.

Mick's eyes traced the contours of her form. He wasn't one for simple impressions and wanted her to know he was intrigued.

"Mick." She greeted simply. 

"Y/N, it's a pleasure."

He pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to her knuckles.

She cleared her throat, regaining her composure.

"Likewise. How have you been?"

"Nervous, very nervous, but I have faith in your talents, love."

"As you should." She said snarkily.

"You look even better in person, if that's possible."

"Oh. Thank you."

The unexpected compliment hung in the air, and a charged pause settled between them.

Her eyes flitted to her watch, cautious of time, even though they had lots of it.

"Well, Mick, you know it's bad luck for the groom to get too close to the dress before the wedding. You might have to stay away from me." She joked. 

He smiled, and with that, Y/N turned, beckoning him to follow her to an office.

She couldn't shake the feeling of Mick's eyes being all over her.

When the door closed, the air seemed to shift. They were in a smaller more intimate space.

Mick settled into a plush chair, and his thoughts were consumed by the captivating designer who had finally walked into his life. She'd been in many other lives, whether through a purchase or a fling, but he was glad it was his turn now.

She cast a glance back at him as she ruffled through, "Make yourself comfortable, Mick."

Y/N bent over her desk as she rifled through the drawers. Mick watched her with an almost fascination. To him, she was a marvel, an artist in her element. Each motion seemed to carry a kind of ethereal grace that held him in attention.

With everything she needed gathered in her arms, she approached him and sat on the arm of the chair.

Y/N reached for a glass of wine, preparing for the storm that was going to be this wedding.

"So, what's on your mind, then?" She asked casually, taking a slow sip.

His eyes wandered over the sketches but he didn't seem to be all that interested, he seemed bored.

"This silhouette here." He pointed to a sketch of something puffy, and she thought that it didn't suit Bianca's figure. She also thought it seemed inappropriate to be chatting about the bride's dress with the groom, but whatever. 

"How about this one, here instead?" Y/N flicked to a page of things more form-fitting and flat.

Mick's eyes looked to a particular design on the page, another choice that seemed miles away from Bianca's taste. "This one," he mused, his finger tapping the paper. "It's got a flair, a vibrancy. What do you think?"

She sighed and looked down at him, he had a stupid smile on his face, he'd had it since he had walked in.

"I think you're very distracted, Mick."

He let out a hearty laugh and swiftly took her cup of wine.

"What do you mean, darling?" he quipped, trying to sound innocent, though the cheekiness in his tone betrayed him.

With a sigh, Y/N stood up and carefully arranged everything on her rug.

She slipped off her shoes to get comfortable on the floor and undid the top button of her blouse. 

"Come here, Mick." She gestured for Mick to join her, her voice was warm and inviting to him.

She looked sultry sitting on her rug, and he wondered if she was making an innuendo for them to shag on the floor or something.

Everything was spread out before them. Y/N's patience wore thin and she implored for the final time, "Are you going to be serious this time?"

"Hm..." He said childishly. 

 "No, Mick," she insisted, her voice firm. "Answer the question. Are you going to be serious this time?"

He relented, only because he liked her demand.

"Alright, I'll be serious," he declared, his arm moving to encircle her waist.

She removed his arm and shifted, settling on her knees. 

Mick shifted his position to mirror hers. He sat on his knees, somewhat determined to focus. 

"Thank you, Mick. Now, a pattern, any pattern you can think of." 

"Something floral, understated but not dull, you know?"

She nodded resolutely and wrote notes whilst drawing little concepts beside them. Mick was watching in awe, she couldn't place why, this was the most boring part of it.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since I got engaged. I'm enamoured with your work, you know." He confessed. 

Why did he have to say since he got engaged, it sounded like he was expressing his love for her over Bianca, and she dreaded that thought. 

"What do you mean?" She asked, timid. 

"You're my favourite designer, Y/N. There's no one better."

She tutted and shook her head, "Oh, come now. I'm sure there are better." 

"Nah, I'm convinced you're a creative genius." Mick giggled. 

"And I'm convinced you have a way with words." She deadpanned. 

"Trust me, Y/N. You're my favourite."  

"Right. Well, let's discuss the dress. What colour are you envisioning?" 

She changed the subject, fearing that what she thought Mick was thinking would materialise. 

"How about orange?" 

"Orange?" 

"Yeah, why not?" He said sarcastically. 

"Stop it now." 

"Alright, alright, obviously white."

"Obviously, but what shade of white?"

"Dunno, suppose you'll have to surprise her." 

"Okay." She groaned and rightfully decided she wasn't going to ask Mick for anything, ever. 

She leaned over him to grab something, and his arm once again found its way around her waist, an intimate hold, like he was trying to show affection. It was a move that was becoming all too familiar, and she didn't like that. 

"Come on, Mick," Y/N sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "What are you doing?"

Mick didn't want to beat around the bush, not with her.

"This is getting a bit dull, don't you think, love?" he suggested.

Y/N's brow furrowed in disbelief, struggling to keep up with the sudden turn of events. "What's gotten into you?"

"You haven't caught on yet?" he teased.

She mustered a shaky breath, "I did, but I was hoping you'd spare us both the bloody trouble."

"I haven't even scratched the surface, love."

His arm was still around her waist, so he pulled her closer until they were nose-to-nose. 

He closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a hard kiss.

Y/N moved back abruptly, her disgust palpable. "You've lost your mind, Mick. You're engaged, and I'm designing her dress. This is sick- you are sick."

He shrugged.

"Well, she's not the one, love. Not by a long shot."

"Then who is?" 

Before she could process the weight of her own question, Mick kissed her. He started it soft. There was a gentle brush of lips, a mingling of breath. His arms circled her waist and as the kiss deepened, so did the intensity. Their tongues swirled together, tasting the wine they shared. The world outside seemed to blur, leaving only the spontaneous connection between them.

Y/N's hand remained on Mick's chest, her fingers curling against the fabric, her voice barely above a mumble as she uttered his name. Still, he didn't stop. Instead, he kissed her deeper, his hand moving to grab her bottom.

They both pulled away at the same time, their breaths mingling in the charged air. Mick's eyes held a mixture of desire and uncertainty as he looked at her. 

He cleared his throat, "Should we stay here on the floor, or find a more comfortable spot?" 

Mick was very confident, so confident he didn't bother to use perception, though he didn't need to in this circumstance. 

"A couch sounds nice," she replied, mischief in her eyes. 

They untangled themselves, their movements carried a sensuous grace. Making their way to the nearby couch on the other side of the room, the atmosphere seemed to thicken, the unspoken promise of what awaited them palpable in the air.

He took her by surprise, his hands pushed her forwards over the arm of the couch so she could be bent over for him. 

Mick pulled her closer, his hands moving down her body as he unzipped the back of her skirt and eased it off her hips. He sighed with as the fabric rustled around her ankles. He tugged on the waistband of her tights and dragged them to the floor.

"Do you feel me, hm?"

He pressed himself into her and it was teasing both of them.

She looked back at him, "I feel you.."

The sound of leather on metal clinked in her ears as he pulled the belt from its loops. His trousers were made into a pile around his ankles, leaving him with his boxers.

Mick held her hips and pressed himself against her, she could feel the warmth of his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear.

His hands found her panties, he pulled them to one side and he thrust harder, pushing his erection against her bare cunt.

"Mm, Mick."

He thrust two fingers into her eagerly, enjoying the sensation of her cunt clenching around them. She giggled at the sudden intrusion, and he pushed his fingers in and out of her faster, eager for more. He moved his fingers more vigorously as she became wetter.

He removed his fingers, and pulled off his boxers. His cock bounced free; he couldn't wait any longer to be inside of her. He stroked himself twice, savoring the feeling. The head of his hardness was tapped against her entrance, then slid inside of her, inch by inch. He lightly stretched her open, allowing himself to fully enter. He groaned when he filled her up completely, and only slowly moved in and out. 

He went from the tip of cock to the middle of his cock. She was so wet for him. He went balls deep a few times, light taps filled the room with each time he did so.

Her back arched as his dick slid in and out of her, the fuck was swift.

He drove into her with an intense passion. She looked back at him with wide eyes, a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Mick's thrusts were deep and unyielding, directly hitting her g-spot with every movement. Her walls clenched involuntarily as the sensation grew, seeming to never end.

Mick was getting close so he fucked into her harder. Her body slid back and forth beneath him, her stomach moving against the arm. She moved her hips back, urging him on.

"Fuck." He groaned.

He was getting close so he fucked into her harder. Her body slid back and forth beneath him, her stomach moving before the arm. The sensation of her warm skin made him shudder.

He pulled out just in time, his penis coated in sticky white fluid. She got up promptly to kiss him, excited.

Her lips clasped against his and for a moment it was as if no time had passed between them, but then she broke the seal of her mouth and trailed kisses down his chin and neck to his shoulder blade

They were giddy from their illicit activity, like teenagers sneaking away to do each other right under their parents' noses.

Well, it was under someone's nose.

[cu1tsmark]

"The Seamstress of My Heart"

Mark's tailor shop had always been a sanctuary for him, a place where he could lose himself in the art of fashion. But when Y/N walked through the door, everything changed.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," she said with an eager smile.

"Mark," he replied, extending his hand. "Welcome to my shop."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she took in the colorful fabrics and neatly arranged mannequins. "I've always been fascinated by tailoring, and I want to learn everything there is to know about it. Would you consider hiring me?"

Mark could sense her genuine enthusiasm, and it warmed his heart. "Tell me, Y/N, why do you want to work here?"

Y/N's face lit up as she spoke. "I've always been drawn to the idea of creating something beautiful from scratch. The thought of turning a piece of fabric into a masterpiece is incredibly inspiring. And your shop, it feels like a place where dreams are stitched together."

Mark was captivated by her words. "You have a way with words, Y/N. I think you might be exactly what I've been looking for. You're hired."

As the weeks passed, Y/N proved herself to be a quick learner. She immersed herself in the world of tailoring, from measuring customers to sewing intricate patterns. Mark found himself spending more time teaching her than he had with any other employee.

One day, as they were working side by side, Y/N looked up and said, "Mark, I can't thank you enough for giving me this opportunity. I feel like I'm living my dream."

Mark smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the tailor's iron he was holding. "Y/N, you're a natural. It's a pleasure to teach someone so passionate about this craft."

As the months passed, Mark couldn't help but notice how Y/N's eyes sparkled whenever she spoke about fabrics and design. Her dedication was infectious, and he found himself admiring her not just as a talented apprentice but as a person.

One evening, they were discussing a new project, and Mark's mind began to wander. He remembered the countless times he had spoken with his friends about designing the perfect dress.

"You know," he said, his voice trailing off, "I always told my friends that one day, I could be designing the wedding dress for my girl."

Y/N looked at him with a curious smile. "Your girl? Have you found her yet?"

Mark hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "Maybe," he said softly, unable to tear his gaze away from her. "Maybe she's been right here all along."

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Mark knew he had fallen deeply in love with Y/N. He watched as her smile transformed into a look of realization, and then she took a step closer.

The newfound connection between Mark and Y/N transformed the tailor shop into a place where love and creativity thrived side by side.

As the days passed, their bond deepened. They spent their time measuring clients, selecting fabrics, and sketching designs together. Mark couldn't help but smile every time he saw Y/N engrossed in her work, her eyes filled with determination and passion.

One sunny afternoon, as they were putting the finishing touches on a beautiful wedding gown, Y/N looked up and said, "You know, Mark, this dress is a work of art. I can't imagine anything more perfect for a bride on her special day."

Mark nodded in agreement, but inside, his heart was racing. He had been wanting to broach a delicate subject with Y/N for some time now, but the fear of ruining what they had held him back.

Y/N sensed his hesitation and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Is something on your mind, Mark?"

He took a deep breath and finally confessed, "Y/N, I've been thinking a lot lately about that conversation we had when you first started working here. About designing a wedding dress for someone special."

Y/N's eyes widened with understanding, and a soft smile tugged at her lips. "You mean..."

Mark nodded, his voice filled with emotion. "Yes, Y/N. I mean you. I've fallen in love with you, not just because of your passion for tailoring but because of who you are. And I can't help but dream about designing the most beautiful wedding dress for you."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and she pulled Mark into a warm embrace. "Mark, I've fallen in love with you too. And I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."

From that moment on, their love story blossomed. Mark designed a stunning engagement ring, and Y/N said yes without hesitation. Their tailor shop became a place not only for creating beautiful garments but also for planning their future together.

As they worked side by side, their dream of creating the perfect wedding dress for Y/N became a reality. Mark poured his heart and soul into the design, making sure every stitch was filled with love. And when their wedding day arrived, Y/N walked down the aisle in a gown that was more beautiful than she had ever imagined.

Their friends and family gathered to celebrate their love, and as Mark watched Y/N say her vows, he couldn't help but think that his dream had come true. He was not only designing the wedding dress for his girl, but he was also marrying the love of his life.

Their love story was a testament to the power of passion, dreams, and a little bit of courage. And in the years that followed, Mark and Y/N continued to create beautiful garments together, knowing that their greatest masterpiece was the love they shared.

(Yeah so i got this idea inspired from this pictures honestly 😭😭 I can't help it)

[papiliomame]

Road to 3D- Sam Manson (Part 1):

Model sheet

Part 2: Character Modeling

Hi! On my recent posts of my 3d models I got many asking questions about how I made them. I'm currently working on a 3d Sam model from scratch and so I thought I can document my process here and add some thoughts through my process.

Before I can model anything in 3d I need a reference and a plan. For characters this means I need to create a model sheet, so here we are.

Some disclaimer first before I continue:

I'm just a self-taught hobby artist not a professional or proper art student. The infos I write here down are just the things I do and can be completly wrong or different in a professional setting.

This is not a tutorial or a step-by-step-guide for character design or how to make character sheets in general. Just additional things that I pay attention to when I make a model sheet for my 3d models.

As someone who just does 3d modeling in my freetime for 2 1/2 years I see myself still as a beginner. I'm still in a experimenting with different techniques and artstyle. This and the following posts describes just stuff I do for this model, it could be some other method next if I feel this didn't work out that well. Nothing is set in stone.

I do the 3d models just for myself for practice and for fun, you cannot download them anywhere. I just post screenshots and do sometime animations to archive my progress.

Under the cut are my thoughts of how I approach a model sheet for a 3d character:

First things first I search for references and make some rough sketches to decide how I want the character to look like. I found this image of a character on pinterest ( anyone knows who the artist is? I cannot find the original source) and use this as a reference for my Sam model.

After the inital phase I first draw the front side of the character. For a 3d model I need a symmetrical neutral character in a T-pose, an A-pose or a standing pose in which the arms doesn't obscure the body. This makes it easier to model and rig them late on.

Speaking of obscuring the body it's also better to have a character without their clothes on and in multiple angles. It is easier to model the character's full body first and then model the clothes around it as an anchor point.

The most import angles for me are the front and side view. The other angles are more for the details to get the likeness right. I try to model the front view most accurately and the sideview is more for the proportions. I don't often see people only from the side view so whatever I draw from the side cannot 100% be accurately be modeled like that. I also made a different side view on the right with the arm seperated from the body, this makes it easier block in the form of the body and it's easier to model the arm and hand seperatly because hands are not only difficult to draw but also difficult to model.

For the different angles I use a mannequin model in blender as a guide and reference. Clip studio paint (the painting program I use) has also 3d mannequins but I personally find them difficult to move around so I prefer to use blender for this.

When I'm finished with the model sheet I also make a quick turnaround animation to see if anything looks consistent enough.

Yeah that's it. Now onto the modelling process!