#I definitely want to start making art again

[artssslut2]

It’ll Happen

Art x Reader

Summary: you and your husband Art have been trying to have a baby but you are getting impatient.

This can be a part two of something’s missing or a standalone.

Since that night it had been about two months since you had your iud taken out and you and Art had been trying … a lot. Almost every night. He was having the time of his life and frankly so we’re you. Not only did it bring you both so much pleasure, it somehow brought you both even closer. It wasn’t just sex anymore, it was sex with a bigger purpose it was such a special experience for the both of you. But you were starting to get frustrated even though it hadn’t been long since you started trying.

You stared down at the negative pregnancy test with Art right by your side his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Why isn’t it happening?” You murmured holding back tears, you knew you shouldn’t be upset yet

“It just takes time, it will happen” Art tried comforting you he pressed a kiss on your shoulder. You couldn’t hold your tears back they started falling from your eyes you tried Turing away from your husband

“Hey hey what’s wrong baby talk to me” art pulled you back into his chest and you melted into him

“I know I shouldn’t be crying I know it takes time. I just want it to happen now” you cried into him, he brought a hand to your hair and stroked it to comfort you.

“I know you do, so do I. But I promise it will happen for us. And you can cry it’s okay, your just disappointed.” He wrapped his arms around you tighter kissing your head a few times wiping your tears.

“Are you disappointed?” You sniffled, Art hesitated

“Well of course I am, but I know -“

“In me. Are you disappointed in me?” You whispered interrupting him.Art was shocked that you could even wonder such a thought,

“What? Of course not y/n/n. This is not your fault at all.” He confidently reassured. He could tell you were still upset. He stood up taking your hands in his

“Come on” he said guiding you into the hall to the kitchen

“Art what are you doing” you asked too tired to protest. He let go of your hand and started grabbing stuff from the cupboards

“Art?” You asked again confused

“I’m making you cookies.” He said already starting

“What?”

“I’m making you cookies, then we are gonna take a shower, watch a movie, and just relax” he said while trying to crack an egg into the big bowl.

“Your tired and so am I, let’s just take the night off give ourselves a break, a reset” you smiled your husbands kind words. He always knew how to make you feel better no matter what. He knew that when you were a little girl your mom would always make you cookies when you were sad or scared. Art remembered every detail you ever told him, it’s one of the reasons you loved him so much. You walked over to your husband kissing him

“You know I love you a lot.” You told him holding him close

“I do… but I’m definitely gonna need help with these cookies” he told you clearly not knowing what he was doing. You laughed picking up the whisk.

You guys took the night off and relaxed the cookies were halfway decent and you watched your favorite movies. You knew it would happen, you just felt so impatient to give art everything you both ever wanted.

[vigilskeep]

mairyn is my idea of a hawke who was really defined by the horrors of ostagar. even as the warden, up in the tower, we never quite experience what it was like down in the mud when the banners started going down and the battle rush turned to panic

she was one of the first to desert when the tide began to turn, blindly shooting down anyone—darkspawn or fellow soldier—who tried to stand between her and getting her brother and getting out. her commanding officer had been a gruff but honourable nobleman, a mentor figure who’d taken a chance on a scoundrel with a tongue too sharp for her own good. she doesn’t know what happened to him, whether if in his final moments he had been thankful she’d fled or cursed her for abandoning him. all she knows is that in the days between ostagar and lothering, his old mabari found her, and has limped along in her shadow since

her life is definitely cleanly cut down the middle between ‘before’ and ‘after’. i like the absence of ostagar in what we see, because i like the idea that the one thing mairyn would make varric promise is to cut ostagar and carver’s death from the story, as he does in the exaggerated intro. one story she won’t tell, like his bianca

she’s evenly weighted purple/red, restless and resentful, saying whatever will cut the deepest or spark the most laughter, anything to have an impact, start a fight, dodge the personal. she’s definitely rushing through life, going for everything that’s exciting and dangerous and fun, quick to leave baggage behind. she’s still running from ostagar. the only time she stopped was to drag carver to safety, and it was for nothing, just to lose him anyway. she won’t make the same mistake again. she loves her family, sure, on the days she doesn’t want to strangle them, but no matter what her father asked her to do—play the third parent and always be a protector for her siblings, like she would never have her own life, like she didn’t matter—she’s going to live for what she wants. running has to be the right answer, the only thing anyone can do, because if it isn’t, she’ll have to face what she did that night at ostagar

pretty unfortunate that she’s about to fall in love with a lot of people who can’t be truly saved, but need you to stop and try anyway!

also her entire aesthetic in my head is based on this one hawke concept art:

wet cat of a woman. horrible kirkwall ghoul. you should never be completely sure somebody didn’t fish her out of the docks this morning

[theslowhipster]

I think I'm a Pretty Good:tm: Liar?(Inspired by The People's Joker, kinda (not really)) // Queer Trans Ramblings

I want to write something long and beautiful about my thoughts, but I don't know how it's going to come across. (its definitely long though)

Ever since I started living as myself (and for myself), I've been thinking a lot about art that I've created in the past. How I was a happy kid, but underneath all of that I was angry and upset. Content to be the person everyone expected me to be, but never myself. For example, in 5th grade I wrote a short fantasy story using deadname as my self insert. I never felt any closeness to that name, no one ever really called me by it so I thought that was why it felt wrong. But even for the end of the story I couldn't find any happiness for him.

It wasn't a violent end, and it wasn't even his fault. The carelessness of the dragon he trusted with his life flew too high and he could no longer breathe. I remember my teacher at the time showed concern that something was wrong. Most 9 year olds don't write a story where they are the main character, horrible things happen to them, everything is described as awkward and nonsensical, and then they die. But my parents saw their "son" trying really hard to be happy for them and the consensus was "Garnet's just like that."

There feels like there were so many of those moments, too. "Oh no, Garnet's struggling in school, and she thinks it's because she might have ADHD. Let's get her tested," (slightly paraphrased and with different pronouns, obv.) But, once the only people asked were my parents and teachers who I was told later all said some variant on "yeah she could have it, but she's happy and well adjusted." And obviously I don't blame any of them, I was lying about who I was to make the people I cared about most love me.

I was so desperate to be the person they thought I was when I started to come out about my sexual preferences I did it out of anger to hurt my parents. We never really talked about it after the fact, but I know from talking to one of my sisters that they never really believed it. (Jokes on them, I'm a happily married pansexual in a lesbian relationship now). And this anger stayed with me, this frustration that I couldn't put my finger on. I think its what really soured our whole relationship in my teenage years.

When I left for college I was so happy and excited, I could redefine who I was, for myself this time. But after about 6 months, I started feeling trapped all over again and stopped going to classes. I was still trying to be "Garnet" the son that my parents loved and it was destroying me. Eventually, my behavior got me kicked out of school because I had failed literally every single class I was in for two quarters in a row. Because I missed the freedom that being myself gave me, I was determined to earn that back. So I moved back home, and started going to community college with the goal of being myself. That was the first time since probably Elementary school that I had gotten perfect grades.

Eventually I was able to transfer back to university, and reconnected with my at-the-time girlfriend (now wife <3) and started taking classes for an entirely different degree than the one I had originally intended, thinking this would be what fixed me. The following academic year I got an apartment off campus and got serious about my education. I had done it, I'd become the right version of me. Or at least I thought I had.

I ended up making (what I thought was) a friend during my studies; we were in the same major, liked all the same things, and they felt punk and queer as could be. Exactly the kind of community I had tried to build in high school. We'd talk for hours about nerd culture, the darker sides of the internet, and they introduced me to a deeper queer community and furry shit in a way that made all of it way more approachable than in the past. Like the dragon in the story I'd written almost a decade earlier, because of them I was able to see everything from a new perspective that felt more authentic.

But like any dragon, being around them is harmful to your health. While they were (knowingly or not) pushing me to be my most authentic self, they were also trying to separate me from my girlfriend. Verbally abusing them in what I now assume was a desperate attempt to have me all to themselves (something I saw them do to others and thought nothing of it because we were friends and I thought there was no way they'd do that to me). Eventually, they brought me "high" enough that I started to see some of the cracks in myself. How I was still not happy, even though I had everything I thought I'd ever want. Eventually I came out to them as questioning my gender, and they were very supportive; but before I could figure out exactly what it was we stopped being friends and I found out everything that they had been doing behind my back.

We had finally reached the end of [REDACTED]'s story, he was blacking out due to lack of oxygen. The same end I had predicted 14 years prior, lifted up by someone he trusted to the point where he was so changed he was dead. And you would think that it is would be a sad ending, but he was never a happy person and honestly? I think this was the best ending he could've gotten.

Thankfully I still had other friends around me who could act as a pseudo parachute in this metaphor. [REDACTED] had died, and Jemma came back in his place. But also, she was there the whole time. When I was writing the story, I always knew that this wasn't the end of that character. I had always lied to myself and said that he survived it, that he only blacked out and eventually came to. But I think that deep down, I knew that this was a metaphor for becoming who I was always meant to be. That sometimes we have to destroy the parts of us that aren't really ourselves in order to be happy.

My story still isn't over, but at least now I feel like myself, and I know why everything felt wrong. I still have some things I need to work out, but at least I know why social settings are so hard and I know why I hated looking at myself in the mirror (before a few days ago, the last time I remember seeing someone I recognized as myself in the mirror was when I was six years old). I also now know why I fall so hard and so fast with so many people all at once, and have a loving wife who supports me in exploring that. I don't think I would have any of this though, unless [REDACTED] had died and I took his place.

[dawdlecentric]

Man, this doujin isn't fucking around

Meanwhile, Seikuri in the background...

Doujin: Flashbackers by Totobe

[the-yearning-astronaut]

I think.... over the last two days I think I've read just about every Murderbot fic on AO3 that meets all my (current) filter criteria... I'm pretty sure the only one I have left now is a 200k epic....

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

inadvisably staying up far past your bedtime to work on CraftsTM is something that can be so life-changing

[toastsnaffler]

after I've worked thru my current library stack I think im gonna reread tlt for the millionth time. bc I deserve it <3

[clanborn]

i have drawn so much art this year this is like my golden age

[glitchbirds]

it took a very long time to get to this point again w/ a lot of internal misery along the way but i think im at a point of being tentatively happy with my art in its current state and how it's improving for the first time since like, community college pre-chronic pain (and arguably the first time Ever wrt digital art)

[piplupod]

mother: "theres this great job where you'd be on-call to come in!"

me: "ahhh i don't really want to be on-call, that would stress me out a lot because I'd always be on edge,,"

mother: "no you wouldn't, you could make it your thing!"

me: "...my thing?"

mother: "being on call! it'd be great! :)"

me: "i would probably be crying like... a lot ahaha. because I would always be on edge never knowing when to expect having to go into work, yknow?"

mother: "nooo, you could just make it a thing!"

me: "sorry, what do you mean by thing?"

AND I NEVER FOUND OUT !!

[mintjeru]

The symptoms you’re describing sounds a whole lot like burn out, which happens to the best of us when we push ourselves too long and hard past our limits. It definitely would seem easier to rely on external statistics (likes and reblogs/retweets) to determine the value of your work when you can’t see it yourself, but this is definitely something that can make you feel worse when the numbers don’t hit your expected target. Regardless of the size of your audience, it’s not unreasonable to want or desire for interaction and positive feedback for work you’ve put time and effort into producing, especially when you’ve done so with more limited resources (time/energy etc) than you had access to before. While it’s not a sure-fire way to cure burnout, taking a break and getting enough rest as well as allowing yourself some breathing space can help. Take care of yourself! Love your work—but don’t burn yourself down to the ground! There’s only one like and one reblog that I can give 😢 even if I want to give more…

hey anon! first, thank you for taking the time to write and send this in 🥺 second, it's a bit of a late reply bc i started crying while reading this for the first time and had to come back to it later ajdsdjfsjdf ;;;

you're probably right, i think it is burnout. i've been telling myself otherwise for months now bc i've been worried that the frequency of my posts has set myself up for others to expect something of me + not making art to share would be letting my followers down. but that's also locked me in a cycle of feeling guilty for either not drawing or making something that has no love behind it. logically, i know that taking a break would help, but i'm apparently not the best at allowing myself to take it easy 😅 still, i'll take your words to heart.

ty again for this, and i promise your one like and reblog is enough! i'm thankful that you leave notes on my posts and immensely grateful that you would even consider giving more <3

[astrxealis]

saw someone say the new g’raha tia official art has him in “that eboy pose” and i can’t stop thinking abt it. hilarious

[katbrando]

being an artist is so fun it’s always a good time and never hard at all!!!!

[sparklecare-ability-au]

twice now I have drawn regular, silly art that became foreshadowing on complete accident after further development of ability au

[vetyr]

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

[noxtivagus]

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