But honestly, I’m not actually too happy with those anymore. They’re pretty old. I still sort of hold the same value when I draw them, but here’s some more updated tips, if that’s alright.
One of the biggest complaints I got with those tips was that just a single tear is good enough. Well yes and no. Tears are just a helpful tool, and of course not everyone cries the same, so yes, a single tear can be just as impactful, as long as your emotion and context carries the message.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s heavy crying. And this can take many forms. Again, the face has to carry the intensity of the emotion; the tears are just there to emphasize it. More intensity, (for some people) does tend to include more liquids and leaking.
And of course none of it has to be perfect or even. As I love to touch on, crying is messy and ugly. It brings out the most strained emotions. So none of it has to be symmetrical to get the point across- if anything, it gives it more movement.
I of course draw in a more cartoony fashion, so if you did want to go on the more realistic end of the spectrum, you can focus on the actual physics of tears and how they act and react on the face. More realistically, they come from the inner eye, and are much smaller. They tend to fall in wayward paths, slowly, but sperraticly, and in droplets or thin streams. You can also add streak marks and flush up the face, depending on the subject.
I’m glad you liked my old tips, and I hope these new ones help!
It’s You That I Hold Onto (Newt Scamander x Reader)
✩ prompt: a lovely anon message a few posts back :) includes a jelly reader and an overprotective thunderbird
✩ word count: a fair amount idk man
✩ warnings: so sweet u could possibly get a toothache :(
It’s You That I Hold Onto
It’s a typical Saturday evening in the Goldstein residence (plus a few), Queenie and Jacob waltzing to sleepy crackling records, dappled golden mid-winter light on the wallpaper, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen.
Everything seems perfect to Y/N as she makes her way to the living room, her brilliant crimson skirt swishing rather gracefully about her waist, her hair (for once!) cooperating falling over her shoulders smoothly.
Queenie smiles at her, elegantly breaking away from Jacob to switch which record is playing, new music erupting from the golden phonograph.
“Would ya’ care to dance?” Jacob asks, giving her a rather sloppy grin and holding out his hand.
Y/N nods gleefully, enjoying the time with one of her best friends as the stout man spins her about the room, Queenie clapping to the music.
Newt’s eyes flick to the duo dancing gleefully through the living room, his gaze caught on the pretty woman in his arms. How that skirt shows off her hips-
He looks away immediately, blushing and mentally kicking himself for being “an absolute bloody creep.”
From an early age, Andrew has learned that nothing good ever came from emotions. Caring for someone was exhausting when in a few months’ time, maybe even a few weeks, he would be off to the next foster home. So Andrew stopped. He stopped caring for people who would only disappoint him. He stopped caring for himself when it was easier to forget the pain that way. He stopped caring for life itself when it proved that it was not going to get better. It was what made Andrew not only a good goalie, but a great one. He cut nanoseconds off his reaction time by skipping the shock and excitement when a ball is lobbed his way.
But then Neil Josten came along and Andrew was drawn to him like fly to a honey trap. His scattered thoughts jumped around but kept on landing on Neil Josten, dangerous. Neil Josten, the boy who didn’t add up. Neil Josten, where it didn’t matter if he swung or not, as long as he was close, as long as he was protected from the nightmares chasing him. That was enough.
Then Neil went to the nest. To protect him. ‘If it means losing you, then no.’ Those words reverberated through his head on an endless loop. Andrew did not have friends. Not like that. Not someone who would willingly go through hell, no matter how pointless, just for him. The signals weren’t so clear anymore. When Neil asked that one question, Andrew decided he would finally spell it out loud and clear. ‘That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.’ And it finally got across to Neil.
Andrew watched as Neil recalculated the world like he was prone to do. He checked the exits out of habit and then he locked eyes with him and Andrew saw something that made his heart beat a little faster, his hands become a little sweaty, his face twitch minutely in a semblance of a real smile.
And then it was gone. Because hope wasn’t something he believed in. Hope was a construct of fools and of people who disliked words for their sound and connotation and not for their life experiences.
When Neil was standing in front of him asking what he was afraid of ‘heights’ came out, but another fear was there bubbling up from the depths. A fear that had blue eyes, auburn hair, and a reckless personality.
And when Neil was on the roof and Andrew leaned in and Neil wasn’t moving and their lips touched and Neil still was not moving to stop him, his heart felt like exploding. But like a tire with slow leak, it deflated and he pushed Neil away.
But Neil kept on coming back and back and back. Until he was gone. And Andrew realized that he was a fool. He made a mistake. He let someone in. He knew better. After Aaron. After Cass. After he was seven and please no longer meant being polite. His emotions were out of hand. He didn’t realize the control he had learned over the course of his life was gone, slipping away slowly until it hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces.
We are in a scifi magic campaign full of warp drives, demons, gods and dragons. Currently we are trying to track down a friend of ours that is part of the “Last of our Kind Club” who is a dragon that is also a sun.
One of our friends joined back up after not playing for a few sessions and was a bit confused.
New member: “What are all suns dragons in this universe?”
"You're such a bitch" chloenette for the writing prompt please if your still taking requests
Authors note: I am so excited that I have multiple Chloenette and Ladybee promts in this challenge so I can explore so many dynamics in this relationship! For this one, I had to go with humor ^_^ (For those looking for romantic Chloenette don’t worry, it’s coming)
“Chloe, what are you doing?” Marinette asked as she stared at girl who was currently lounging in Alya’s seat.
“I’m sitting next to my best friend of course!” She smiled, patting the desk beside her, “Cesaire can sit over there. Isn’t that right Sabrina?” she called to her usual partner in crime.
“Of course! Whatever you think is best Chloe. I’m so excited we are getting new friends!” Sabrina grinned manically, giving Marinette an energetic wave.
Marinette slide into her seat. “What did you tell her?” she hissed, “I thought we were clear yesterday that a secret identity needs to be kept a secret!”
Of all the people to possibly find out about her alter ego, it had to be Chloe.
“Of course I didn’t tell her about… you know… I just told her that you and I ran into each other at a cafe and hashed out our differences,” Chloe whispered back. “So I was thinking we should go shopping together after class.”
“Why would you tell Sabrina that?” Marinette asked, praying that she could get this whole mess sorted out before Alya and Nino showed up. If she was lucky maybe today they would have one of their morning make out sessions and come racing in seconds before the bell.
“Well Sabrina is my best friend, I had to tell her something! Especially since we are going to be spending so much time together now. I didn’t want her freaking out and going all… invisible again.”
“What… time togeth… what are you talking about?”
Chloe gave her a pitying smile, “Oh silly, you don’t have to pretend anymore. I know you have to keep up the whole lame, clumsy persona so that people don’t figure out your secret, but you don’t have to hide from me! I’m your best friend!”
“No you’re really not.”
“And I know you better than anyone.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“and just think, now you can be yourself around someone! Because we are truly together now. It’s like destiny. Me and Ladybug, just like it was always meant to be. And you know you can even act like less of a spaz and everyone will just assume that it’s because our friendship has made you that much cooler, and no one will suspect that it’s just your true self shining through.”
“Could this get any worse?”
“Chloe?” a new voice interrupted. “What are you doing in Alya’s seat?”
Apparently it could get worse, because Marinette looked up to see Adrien, looking confused, standing next to his own place in front of her. Great.
“Oh Adrikins! Marinette and I have decided to become best friends. It’s alright if I bring her with me for our monthly movie night on Thursday right?”
“Sure, I guess…” Adrien said still looking like he was expecting to wake up any second to find the whole conversation was a dream. Or maybe Marinette was projecting.
“I was thinking we could all go shopping first,” Chloe continued obliviously, “or maybe manicures because really Marinette we should do something about your poor nails. Oh! Before I forget- selfie!” She pulled out her phone, slinging an arm around Marinette shoulder and giving the camera a brilliant grin. Marinette scowled, then flushed self consciously when she noticed Adrien staring at them both with a strange, searching expression.
“Sorry!” Adrien said, shaking his head when he realized he had been caught staring, “deja vu… anyways I am glad you two are getting along now, it will be fun to all hang out together.” He gave them both an encouraging smile and slipped into his own seat, pulling out his phone.
Marinette sighed, slumping down in her chair. At least something good might come out of this. It seemed that Chloe was finally going to stop trying to ruin her already disastrous attempts to spend time with Adrien.
“So where should be go for lunch?” Chloe asked.
“Chloe, we are not going to lunch together,” Marinette said trying to channel her mother’s firm but quiet tone. “We are not best friends, and you need to go back to your seat, preferably before Alya gets here.”
“But you’re Ladybug.”
“Yes, but I am also Marinette. You know, the girl you picked on mercilessly for the last 5 years?”
“I know and I forgive you for that.”
“Chloe,” Marinette growled, “get out of that seat.”
“God, you’re such a bitch. So anyways I was thinking seafood…”
As you stepped out of the kitchen, wiping your hands on your trousers, your
spotted your husbands finished manuscript
laying on the worn mahogany desk, surrounded by stacks upon stacks of various
books, papers and emptied ink bottles, looking much too tempting, begging to be
read before it was Shipped off to the ministry for printing.
Newt was in the case, giving the creatures their supper, surely a quick
peak wouldn’t hurt, you debated with yourself. Finally double checking that the
innocent looking brown leather case was still firmly closed, you settled
yourself in newts squashy chair by his desk. With one last glance over your
shoulder, you flipped over the cover, releasing
a giggle as you read the introduction, remembering the day that newt had to
ward off an in season hippogriff with your travel kettle, as you continued to
read you couldn’t help but fall in love with newt a little more, imaging him as
the little freckle faced boy that he used to be, racing about the gardens searching
for horklumps, now grown into the still freckled gentleman that he was today,
not doing too much different.
Your laugh caught in your throat as you turned the page, only to find
your own sketch of newts messy work shed staring you in the face. You rifle through
the many pages of the manuscript, wanting to make sure that your sketch hadn’t
just been bundled up by mistake, but sure enough a copy of just about every
sketch that you had made of the creatures was there alongside the loving,
passionate yet factual descriptions of each magical beast.
A lump began to form in your throat, at the bottom left corner of each
of your sketches, in newt’s spidery handwriting was written ‘by my
fantastically talented wife y/n’, tears pricked at your eyes, as you couldn’t
hold back a light laugh of pure joy, at your husbands sweet actions.
You were so absorbed by your giddiness that you didn’t hear newts large
booted feet on the carpeted floor, “oh
darling I wanted it to be a surprise’ his
soft voice startled you, quickly snapping the book closed, looking slightly sheepishly
over your shoulder at him. Only to find his sea green eyes sparkling, that lopsided
smile that you had fallen in love with spreading across his handsome face, as
he made his way to you, almost doubling over, so that he could rest his chin on
your shoulder, ‘did you get to the last page, love?’ he asked tentatively, his
breath tickling over your cheek as he spoke softly to you.
You shook your head in response, he pressed a chaste kiss to your jaw, before
flipping through to the last page of his book. Once more you felt the tears
roll down your cheeks, as you read the dedications to both yourself and newts
“oh you sweet silly man’ you managed to mumble before placing a slightly
wet kiss to his temple, only for him to scoop you up out of his chair, and place
you comfortably in his lap. Where he ever so gently brushed away your tears of
joy with the rough pads of his thumb, pushing your hair from your face, before bringing
your lips together in a warm kiss. “I never would have managed it without you