#i've got a pet portrait to do

[trubluebecca]

Should I join Art Fight?

y/n?

[ruth-odyssey]

༺✩༻ Taking what's not yours

theodore nott x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k 

summary: in which reader has a bad habit of taking her boyfriend's things.

tw. reader is a Gryffindor, some italien pet names

a/n. I genuinely have no idea how far from the Gryffindor common room the astronomy tower is soooo….

“Where in the world are you going at this hour?” You turn around, bag over your shoulder and a blanket in hand. Ron, Harry and Hermione are sitting around a table in the common room, Harry is looking at you clearly confused, eyes darting between you and blanket. “I'm going to the astronomy tower, I've got to finish up my star map for Trelawney.” Ron raises his head, looking at you as if the prospect of actually taking Trelawney’s homeworks seriously – which you had to do since you cannot bullshit your way through a star map – was unfathomable.

“We don't need to go to the astronomy tower for that homework?” Narrowing your eyes at Ron, you deadpan. “The homework is to draw a star map, meaning you have to see the stars Ronald. Unlike you two I won't settle for less than an A.” Harry snorts at that, clearly not caring one bit about said homework. He smiles at you, eyeing your blanket. “Where did you get that blanket from?  I don't think I’ve ever seen this one before.” You glance at said blanket, the soft, fuzzy fabric already warming up your hand. “It’s – You knit your eyebrows, trying to come up with something. – it's kind of old so I don't use it much? Yeah that's why I’ve never seen it before.” You add more confidently. Hermione looks up from her own work, offering you a tired smile. “I think it's great that you’re putting in the work.�� She glares at the two boys at that – while Hermione still thought that the study of divination was absolutely ridiculous, she didn't like how easily Harry and Ron would fake their way through their work (usually by predicting their own death) – You roll your eyes, heading towards the portrait. “I'll see you guys later!” You exit the common room, and start making your way to the astronomy tower. 

—————————————

Okay, maybe you should have brought something warmer. You’re currently freezing your ass off in the astronomy tower, your divination homework already done, sitting on your laps, forgotten. Trying to concentrate on anything but the biting cold brought by the late october night, your ears fail to pick up the sound of footsteps. You snap your head towards the stairs, the sound of someone tripping and cursing bringing you back to reality. You get up as a figure appears. “Theo!” You smile and run up to him, finding comfort – and warmth – in his embrace. Your nose is filled with the smell of his cologne. “I'm sorry I'm late Bella, Draco and Mattheo keep asking me for help with the Arithmetic homeworks.” He apologizes, deep voice softer than usual, a tone he only uses with you. You leave his embrace, just enough to get a look at his face. The moonlight illuminating his features, green eyes, staring at you lovingly. His gaze travels from your face to the rest of your body. He smiles, taking in the blanket on your shoulder. “I was looking for that.” He says, his finger grazing the soft fabric of the blanket. You smile letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah Harry was wondering where I got it from.” “Cara mia you need to be more cautious, you did the same thing last week with my sweater. At this rate, your friends will soon find out about us.” As much as you loved your friends, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them about you and Theo. You simply couldn't tell Harry and Ron since they are convinced every single Slythrin are pure evil and with Hermione, – who you knew would be the most understanding – you had tried, only for her to tell you Draco had called her a mudblood yet again on the day you had planned to tell her. Theo’s hand finds your face, finger softly grazing your cheek. “Are you alright?” You nod, silently pulling his hand to sit down. 

He sits down beside you, one arm around your waist, the other inside his pocket due to the biting cold. Man, I wish I had pockets right now. You flex your fingers, desperately trying to warm them up, when an idea pops into your head. You discreetly stuff your hands in Theo’s pocket, cuddling further into him. Theo raises an eyebrow as you shove your hands in his pockets. “What are you doing, trying to steal my pockets now?” He teases, you send him a scandalized look, a smile teasing the corner of your lips. “Stealing???! I’ll have you know I am simply borrowing it, since I’m cold!” Theo smiles, looking up at the sky. “Semantics… – he pauses and looks at you – So what are you gonna steal from me next? You’ve already got my heart, my blanket, my pocket… what's next on the list.” “Your family name.” Theo’s eyes widened a bit, clearly caught off guard by your answer. He quickly regained his composure, a smirk on his face. “I’ll be happy to oblige when we graduate cara mia.” You smile and he leans in, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, gentle and sweet, like the first snowfall of winter. Pulling away, you rest your head against his shoulder, content to spend some time with your boyfriend. Suddenly, Theo's head snapped to the side. You raise your head to look at him confused when he puts a finger over his lips. There. It's unmistakable; someone is coming up the stairs to the astronomy tower. Your eyes widen and you look at Theo, panicked. Could it be Filch? Or maybe a student? He silently gestures for you to get up and follow him. The both of you somehow manage to make it down, only to find Filch and Norris, blocking the very staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room. You turn to Theo who's been surveying the staircase, as if staring would make Filch leave faster. “What do we do, it's already late.” Theo’s eyes meet yours. “You could come to the Slytherin common room with me.” You open your mouth to protest but he stops you. “I’ve got my own room. You can sleep with me tonight and tomorrow I'll sneak you out early.” Thinking about it for a bit you nod – while you were still anxious about the whole thing there was absolutely no way in hell you’d pass up the opportunity to sleep with your boyfriend. – “Okay fine, let's go.” 

Theeo’s room is exactly how you imagined it would be. Chaotic but at the same time organized, papers and discarded cups of coffee on his desk and stacks of books next to his bed. You remove your Gryffindor robes in favor of one of Theo’s t-shirts and slide beneath the soft, warm sheets. You sigh as Theo lays down behind you, his arm finding your waist. He places a kiss on the crown of your hair whispering a small good night. 

—————————————

You wake up a few hours later. It's been a while since you’ve slept that well. You hear Theo shift behind you, his hand lazily draped over your waist. Letting out a deep breath, you shift your head slightly looking at the clock next to the bed. 8:35…. 8:35???!!!!! You bolted upright, the realization hitting like a bucket of ice water. You were late. Very late. “THEO, THEO WAKE UP!!!!” Theo let out a groan, shielding his eyes from the sun peaking through the curtains. You get out of bed, looking for your uniform. You enter the bathroom, quickly wash your face. Going back in the room, you rummage through your bag trying to find your mascara, concealer and some lip gloss, hoping none of your friends would question where you had spent the night. You glance at the bed where Theo is still half asleep. He opens his eyes a bit, just enough to look at you. “Cara mia what's going on?” “Theo, my love, it's currently – you look at the clock – 8:40, we are VERY late.” Theo’s eyes snap open. “WHAT.” He turns towards the clock, and groans, scrambling out of bed. He almost trips in his haste, putting on his pants and shirt. The both of you somehow manage to leave the Slytherin common room without being seen by anyone. Reaching the Great Hall, you give Theo a quick peck on the cheek, walking a little faster not to seem suspicious. You quickly make your way to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Ron. Hermione looks up, smiling. She opens her mouth, eyes darting to your neck. You hold up a hand “Yes yes I know, I’m late, I’m sorry,” You grab a piece of toast, and serve yourself a cup of coffee, throwing a discreet glance at Theo, who’s currently talking with Draco. You make eye contact and his eyes linger on your neckline, he smirks and turns back to his conversation. You narrow your eyes, wondering what that was about. “Y/n?” You start buttering your toast. “Yes Hermione?” “Care to explain why in the name of Merlin you are wearing a Slytherin tie?”

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[sergle]

If you were going to take commissions soon, do you happen to offer pet portraits? I've got 0 ideas for Christmas gifts other than something like this ;^^

I do pet portraits on occasion, yeah! normally it's something like this

but there's also this type of style too:

as usual tho, if you want to ask more in-depth about commissioning me, feel free to hit me up at serglecommissions@gmail.com!

[gloomyclauds]

I've changed the plan! You can see the new one here.

I've finally planned out my Meadowlands farm! Some things might change later on, as I actually do them in my save, but I'm happy with this 😊 Now let's see if I'm patient enough to reach perfection a second time...

The 3 by 3 crop areas are for giant crops, I want them all!

By the way, this is how it's going so far:

I'm currently on the 20th of Winter, Year 1. I got a long way to go 😅 But at least the farm is clean! I can start planning already.

For the mod list, keep reading ⬇️

Vibrant Pastoral Recolor + 1.6 Fix 1oxnes and Talkohlooeys' Seasonal Portraits Clover Grass Elle's Cuter Barn Animals Elle's Cuter Cats Elle's Cuter Coop Animals Elle's Cuter Horses Elle's Seasonal Buildings Elle's Town Buildings Pet Bowl Recolor Ran's Prettier Witch Seasonal Cute Characters Seasonal Tub o Flowers Simple Foliage Simple Resources Vanilla Accent Interface Vibrant Pastoral Recolor Inspired UI Vanilla Tweaks Content Patcher Generic Mod Config Menu Portraiture UI Info Suite 2

To make this plan:

CJB Cheats Menu CJB Item Spawner Instant Buildings From Farm Tractor Mod

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist             Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!

w/c: 5.9k

You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life. 

Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door. 

Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear. 

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face. 

Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message. 

You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately. 

Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?

You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece. 

Frank: Cross my heart. 

Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap. 

Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.

And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.

Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug. 

Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle. 

Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?

How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done? 

He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family. 

But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?

Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever. 

Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity. 

As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world. 

Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass. 

Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else. 

Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–

Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front. 

“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone. 

“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort. 

“Oh, you know, same old.”

With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.” 

Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate. 

“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.” 

“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?” 

Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone. 

“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture. 

“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast. 

“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.” 

“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands. 

“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.” 

Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”

“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors. 

“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold. 

The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…

“Fuck it.” 

Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant. 

A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky. 

You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.

Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs. 

Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?

You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.

Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.

You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.

Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.

Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.

The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.

You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…

Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.

You: Just my cooking?

His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.

Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you? 

You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)

Frank: You too, sunshine.

Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.

The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary. 

Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it. 

Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started. 

Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite. 

Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain. 

“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”

“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”

“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”

“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re not–”

“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”

So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing. 

On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him. 

It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came. 

Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached. 

It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera. 

Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities. 

You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)

As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again. 

You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️

Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank. 

Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery. 

Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back. 

You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie. 

Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered. 

“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry. 

“The fuck do you want,” He bit out. 

“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”

Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”  

She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.

Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed. 

It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest. 

He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked. 

Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”

In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry. 

Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers. 

Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction. 

Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you. 

“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?” 

Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes. 

Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork. 

“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.” 

The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.

“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–” 

Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest. 

“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession. 

“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did. 

Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it. 

“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh. 

“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning. 

“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.” 

The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.” 

You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.” 

“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you. 

Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?” 

He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again. 

“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?” 

“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin. 

A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees. 

Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress. 

He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you. 

Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again. 

Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.

Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help. 

“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started. 

“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right. 

You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks. 

“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard. 

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?” 

Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.” 

“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.” 

Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.” 

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence. 

Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip. 

“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you. 

You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.” 

Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars. 

Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.” 

“It’s—“

“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”

A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.” 

“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.” 

You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to. 

“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?” 

You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.” 

Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?” 

Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.” 

Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?” 

Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you. 

“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?” 

“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”

“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover. 

“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs. 

“You made me a lasagna?” 

“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.” 

“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.

“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?” 

Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork. 

“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it. 

“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite. 

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you. 

Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again. 

Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep. 14: Part 2/3

Hello!!! =D

This is Part 2, you can find Part 1 here, and Part 3 here.

This is not that long of a post, it's just fluff and a filler before part 3 and all the scenes that will live in my head rent-free for the rest of forever.

Literally 😭 (see: Peem's portrait of Phum)

Isn't that what besties are for? 👀

My besties tease me to death 😭 and because I get flustered easily they're like 😏

Yep.

Let's be honest here though, Q, Peem has enough dirt on you to win that argument (and he isn't afraid to use it).

I love them so much 😭🫶🏼

"krab"?!!

Seems like Phum is not the only one with an inclination to use polite pronouns with his faen hm

I'm gonna use this as meme faces. Q's for when I'm losing an argument and Peem's for when I'm winning.

Phum was shooting shots long before they became boyfriends, and now that they are, he's gonna loudly let everyone and their pets know that Peem is his.

He will be insufferable, and I am here to cheer him on. <33

Oh, Aunt Pui saw. Good news though, Auntie, they're not friends.

As I said, Phum will never hold back on PDA, and we all know Peem enjoys it no matter how much he swats at Phum like a fly. (If he didn't, he definitely would walk away and tell Phum that.)

I am saving these as reaction images. 😌👍🏼

Poor Phum 😭

I could just hear the steam coming out of his ears- oh wait, that was actually playing in the background, along with sad puppy noises. GMMTV really went all out with the sound effects 😭👍🏼

This scene got me.

Even in the trailer this made me short circuit, but the actual scene was so much more. There was so much love, from both of them.

Phum inviting himself, but still asking Peem to ask him "nicely", and Peem going all out with it (KHUN FAEN??) it's all just *chef's kiss*

Spotted: one smitten boy, and his exasperated boyfriend.

Aunt Pui really said "You have the house all to yourself, make good use of it" 😭👍🏼

Somehow, this was the scene that made me feel the most single.

Do you know how many times I've dreamed of coming home to/with someone on days I can't keep my eyes open anymore?!! I don't live alone rn, but this is about when I Grow Up™ so sh.

i'm so fond of TanFang, y'all. I love PhumPeem and they make go crazy on the daily, but TanFang is the soft edges without which the picture would be incomplete; they're like setlling back and just realxing after the high-tension shit going on with all the rest of the couples.

CHAINPUN!!!

Everytime they appear on my screen, I'm guaranteed to be smiling so wide. They deserve so much more screentime. I love them. <33

That's it for Part 2! The next post will be up soon hopefully.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a hotdog 🌭

[pancakessart]

my new job isn't scheduling me as much as i need and i'm trying to move out, so i've updated my comms and made this fun little sheet!!!

NOW DOING FURRY COMMS!!! YAYYYY!!

I've got two styles (a cutesy one, and a more realistic one), and a bunch of different options for every budget!! for furry comms, you'll receive the digital scan of your commission in a high-quality PNG format! For pet portraits + MC build art (minus digital color), you'll receive the original piece in the mail!

LINK TO MY COMMISSION FORM HERE!!!!!

all info entered in the form is ONLY shared with me!

I've also got a sale going on in my Ko-fi shop rn, so check that out, too!

REBLOGS SUPER APPRECIATED!! HELP ME MOVE OUT!

COMMISSION SLOTS OPEN: 10/10

[iztea]

Maybe you have some drawing tips for beginners?

Your style is incredibly beautiful and it just inspires this thing inside me to grab my iPad and start drawing but unfortunately I have no idea where to even begin

Or maybe you have some recs where to look to learn how to draw stuff?

But I understand completely that it’s your thing and artists should never feel pressured to share all their techniques and secrets, you worked hard on it!

I just really really love your art to the point where I just look at it for 30 minutes straight with this big feeling in my chest

<3

ah it was never about being secretive, i'm pretty open about my drawing process since gatekeeping knowledge is a big pet peeve of mine. It was more like,, laziness because writing a cohesive and helpful drawing tutorial is pretty difficult and i wouldn't even know where to start; i'm afraid i'll get maybe too technical and what have you.

As for tips for beginners, i've shared plenty on my couriouscat so you can scroll through the answers there, i also have some drawing timelapses on my twitter account as well (albeit you'll have to scroll a little)

I'm very flattered you feel that way about my art, it really means a lot to me and i'm glad to have inspired you to draw as well that's awesome and i wish you best of luck!

I actually don't know how different drawing on an iPad is compared to a graphic tablet+desktop, so I am actually pretty clueless in that regard. I think Procreate is the most used digital art app for iPad so you can start by getting it and familiarizing yourself with the UI. I think this step is often overlooked. The brushes and the chosen program can make or break the drawing experience. If you simply find yourself not enjoying Procreate, experiment with other apps or maybe try switching to a graphic tablet, maybe that feels better and is more suited to your tastes.

To be completely honest, one "bad" piece of advice that i should probably keep to myself is to draw something you actually enjoy: fanart, Pretty Girl Portrait(tm), your cat, landscapes etc even if it's above your skill level (becoming obsessed/ fixated on some character from a piece of media also works wonders i'm just gonna throw that out there). The main point is to actually care about your chosen subject in order to get inspired and to have that inner desire of "doing them justice" aka drawing them well. The traditional art learning route probably involves studying the fundamentals, shading spheres and cones and simple 3D forms blablbablah which. Yeah ! sure that's probably better advice but i'm telling you what will make you want to keep going and not get discouraged after a few failed attempts.

As for the drawing subject, I highly recommend having photo references to guide you.. you always need refs it's a recurring thing. My fastest artworks are the ones where I have the right references. the less references the more difficult it is to draw something

As a beginner it is also a good practice to draw OVER your photo reference to get the proportions right ( i'm not talking about literally tracing the contour of a face or limb ( just an example ), but moreso identifying the Main shape which makes up that body part and observe how long is it in respect to the other components, how does it connect to the other parts etc - big difference. Tracing won't help you in the long run).

Another thing you can do is to study your favourite artists and see how They tackle whatever it is that you like in their work. how do they simplify facial features? what about anatomy? color/ light etc and kinda reverse engineer your way through their process. ( but i highly recommend to just keep these practice sketches to yourself, and to not share them on social media- unless you get the artist's permission)

This is how i got into drawing and what i did back then, again, for more technical hands-on information i did answer similar CCs before so with a little bit of stalking you'll find them in no time

I wanna finish this with some resources that helped me:

>youtube guys - sinix, ahmed aldoori, marco bucci, and also just speedpaints in general i highly recommend watching those

>for simplified anatomy i found @/ taco1704 's ref sheets to be very helpful but ........... I'm pretty dry here i just look up refs on Pinterest tbvh

speaking of, here's my pinterest i have a bunch of art related boards board cool stuff overall maybe they can help guide you towards some direction or inspire you in some way idk

ok i kinda suck in the resource department listeN. im starving too just.................. watch youtube speedpaints ok

SORRY IT'S SO LONGGGBGGG i hope it was at least a bit helpful? this was all over the place... I'll try to come up with a tutorial as well but i really gotta be careful with how i go about it. I'll leave you with this for the time being. Again, thank you a lot for the kind words, I really am very grateful and touched esp by that last part about staring with the big feeling stuff eeeeeeeeeeeeee really wow T T that's so lovely and a big compliment thanks ty ly

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

All RO's Asks

AN: Splitting more stuff to appease the tumblr post word limit overlords. Back to Main Masterlist: Link Back to Character Masterlist: Link NSFW Asks Masterlist: Link

General Ask's

RO reaction be to a panicking MC running to them being like “we have a problem!” Then proceeds to cup their face and say “you haven’t gotten your daily quota of kisses yet!” Link

RO's reactions would be to their kids bringing home their super nervous lover for the first time? Link

ROs and MC celebrate New Year after they are married? Link

RO's react if MC asked them “Come back to bed. Please.” Link

RO's reaction or thought on MC first time meeting them? Link

RO reaction that they or MC is pregnant with Octuplets? Link

Pet peeves of the RO's? Link

Which of the RO's would die immediately or survive if they get stranded in a forest with absolutely nobody around? Link

Do any of the RO's have pets? Would MC be able to convince them to get one? Link

Making the RO's go weak in the knees - Part 2: Link

RO's react to MC's death, knowing who their killer is: Link

RO react to MC really breaking up with them to protect them? Link

RO's react to breaking up in the relationship stage? Link

What do they fo for work? Link

Someone tells RO's that their partner is very hot and "do they mind sharing?" Link

RO's reaction to a sleeper build MC? Link

RO's reaction to MC being like a really good cook and always waking up or coming home to a hot fresh meal? Link

Part 2 of "MC sends RO's a scandalous portrait", Family member sees it; continuation (Not NSFW): Link

RO's react to drunk MC telling them to leave them alone because "I've happily taken": Link

Male MC's with a MC who has a phobia of men (sneak peek): Link

How would the Ro's react if we bought home a puppy that we saw on the street? Link

How would the ROs take care of a drunk MC? Link

Do the ROs prefer a hot or cute MC? Link

The guys react to pregnant Mc using their belly bump as a table for their plate? Link

What would the RO name their kids? Or would they ask MC to name them? Link

How are they to puppy eyes from their baby or toddler? Link

ROs dynamic with their little daughter/son in the future? Link

How would they ROs react to MC looking very similar to them? Link

How would the ROs of MC was short and they (the MC) were really into it? Link

On a scale of 1-10 how weak are the ros to MC's puppy dog eyes? Link

What would the RO say to MC while MC was dying in their arms? Link

MC spraining their ankle and asking to be carried bridal style: Link

How would RO's react to MC having a fever and not wanting to rest? Link

How would RO's react to a short devilish MC? Link

How would the ROs react if the MC suddenly sat on their lap? Link

What songs would you assign the RO's? Link

Who among the ROs and other important characters are the best dancers? Link

How the ROs would react if they left MC to go get them drinks and came back to find some very flirty drunk noble trying to get into MCs pants? Link

RO reaction to their baby’s first is Mama/Papa? Link

How would RO’s react to their young child asking “where do babies come from?” Link

What would the RO’s reaction be if after a long night of socializing, they wake in bed next to someone who isn’t MC? Link

What would be the RO's dream wedding? When, where and what kind of ceremony would they want with the MC? Will it be small or large? Link

From most to least, which RO’s would mother approve of? Link

What should MC say to make the RO blush a lot? Link

How would the RO’s or other characters react to the MC sacrificing themselves to protect them? (+ Mother & Traveler) Link

The reaction of the ROs when they find out/hear from MC, that MC will do everything in their power to protect them? Link

How would the ROs feel like after a week later after the MC's death they show up again, wounded but alive. Link

How would the ROs react to their kid coming home crying because they got their heart broken? Link

(reupload) How would the F!ROs react if very deep in the relationship with MC (maybe they're even married now) they become pregnant with MC's child? How would M!ROs react if F!MC was pregnant in a similar scenario?: Link

How would they react to their teenage kid sneaking out to see a secret lover? Link

What kind of parents would they be? Link

How would the ROs react if MC gave them very cheesy nicknames in relationship stage? Link

How would the ROs react to MC handing them a notebook of the poems they wrote about them during crushing phase? So now they're deep into the relationship and MC found the courage to give them the notebook on one of their anniversaries? Link

What if MC who's very good at singing and writing wrote and performed a very romantic and touching song about their RO on their anniversary or something? Link

How would the ROs react if MC gifted them a very lovingly made handmade gift in relationship stage? Link

How would the ROs react if MC washed their hair very gently and lovingly as a gesture of love? Link

What would the Ros be like in a modern AU? Link

How would the RO's plan your birthday? Link

If MC gave them lingerie for their wedding anniversary: Link

ROs react to a MC that refuses kisses and touching beyond hugging and holding hands until marriage? Link

How would the ROs react to The MC who usually is covered that suddenly starts wearing tight clothes with revealing bits because someone told them they're so plain and have no appeal and the MC wants to impress the RO? Link

How would the ROs react if in relationship stage MC accidentally introduced them as their husband/wife while talking to someone? Link

Fem MC having a bad day in additional to having her period, what would the Ros do for her? Link

RO reactions if while they're in a party or something in relationship stage and someone starts aggressively flirting with the RO, making the MC jealous, who puts their arm around the RO? Link

How would the ROs react if MC said to them that they would only marry them if they have the MC mother/mentor blessing? Link

How would the ROs react if their MC is a very affectionate person and they suddenly stop? Because someone told them that they are very annoying: Link

RO reactions to MC giving them a full body massage after a long day? Link

Where do the ROs love to kiss the MC and where do they love being kissed by the MC? Link

Cuddlebug MC: Link

RO's Love Languages: Link

How would the ROs react to someone telling them they could do a lot better than mc alongside some other insults for the MC? (+Insecure MC): Link

(For the Ladies) How would the pregnant ROs react if MC was the sweetest hubby and dad? : Link

What are the RO's opinions on an MC who has both the separation anxiety trait and the social anxiety trait? : Link

Following the trend from other IF blogs, what would the ROs want, need and drear to hear from the MC? Link

RO's Heights: Link

ROs reactions to a MC who is a gentle giant?: Link

Can we have a small prompt where MC gifts the ROs with a beautiful necklace (or bracelet) and helps them put it on while making eye contact through the mirror? Link

How would the ROs react if MC compared their hand sizes with them? Link

What can a romanced MC do to make the ROs absolutely melt for them and become weak in the knees? Link

How would the ROs react if deep in relationship stage they accidentally ended up discovering an engagement ring hidden in the MC's stuff? Link

What positions do the ROs sleep in? How will they sleep with a romanced MC? Who loves cuddling, who is the small and big spoon? Can they sleep without the MC in relationship stage if the MC has to work? Link

How would the ROs react if they accidentally discovered MC's journal, which has very carefully hand-drawn portraits of the RO and poems declaring MC's love for them? Link

RO reactions to overhearing MC gushing about them to a good friend of theirs? Like they're saying how awesome the RO is, how much they love the RO, they feel like the RO is their soulmate, etc etc. Link

How would the ROs react if they twist their ankle and MC catches them and carries them bridal style? How would the reactions change if this happened in crushing stage vs if it happened when they are in the relationship stage? Link

RO reactions in relationship stage to MC cupping their face in their hands and saying, "I can hold my entire world in my hands, see!"? Link

RO's thoughts for a MC who is very sappy and affectionate? Link

[trench-rot]

Thank you @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies and @cassietrn for the tags recently and previous! Sending them all back with excitement for projects!

We've got rough idea Haniel (judge) portrait, and the started painting on my sketch layer without (and with) Theo's hand. I'm undecided which but I have lots of time to choose before I get there. I used to paint pet portraits and feel significantly more comfortable drawing wolves vs people, this has been a comfy piece for me.

An ancient (at this point) comic I've started to finish finally- def in progress but it's getting closer to where I'd like this frame to be.

Aaaaannnd a base layer for a background, super giddy about how it's coming out. I do have more finished steps for this piece but I'd like to keep it a surprise since the person it's for can see it🖤

WIP tag: @strangefable @voidika @jacobsneed@florbelles @shegetsburned @theresaruggedroad @adelaidedrubman @verbjectives @onehornedbeast

like/dislike the post linked to 'WIP tag' to be added/removed

[aspenceart]

This is random and I don’t know how to say this, but I just adore your art— your way of drawing plants/animals, patterns, etc is insanely technically skilled, and the compositon and style is amazingly creative! I love how there’s such a variety of patterns and subjects, yet they’re all connected through similar styles, colors, etc.

Sorry for rambling! All this is to ask if you have any tips for beginner artists/artists wanting to start with digital art/improve their work.

Have a nice day/night! :)

Hi! So sorry for not answering this for forever, it got lost in the inbox ;-;

Thank you so much for the love! I really appreciate it. As for tips, it's always hard to come up with something that hasn't already been parroted a million times xD but, I'd say some of the best advice I've ever received is that you should focus less on the end result of your art and more on the process it takes you to get there.

It's easy to end up cultivating a style that looks stunning at the end, but that you dislike every moment of getting to that end result. That's a great way to burn out and start avoiding art. However, if you try and forget for a moment about what you think the end result should be, and just focus on enjoying the process of creation, then you'll end up happier and more fulfilled.

Now, it's good to still challenge yourself and you shouldn't discard techniques simply because you aren't skilled with them yet. But if you've worked at something and learned how to apply it, but you still dislike the act of doing it, then don't force yourself to keep going. For example, my art style includes little-to-no lineart and is highly stylized. This was, in large part, driven by my actual dislike of drawing lineart. I just rarely found it fun, despite having the skill to do it. Likewise, I actually used to paint realistic pet portraits for commissions. Eventually I realized how much I didn't enjoy the long rendering process and I shifted away from realism. Focusing on color and shape and pattern are all things I really love about my process and style.

TLDR; At the end of the day, just chase the things you enjoy.

Hope that was helpful! <3

[raccoonfallsharder]

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*

masterlist

18+ only MDNI | rocket x f!oc | 27/27 chapters | COMPLETE | word count: 235,940.

girl falls first; raccoon falls harder.

Rocket is captured by a Ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. Throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the Terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a Xandaran luxury liner. Oops.

slight AU starting pre-GOTG volume 1 (but will hit most of the same major plot points). slow burn + eventual smut with a lot of pining in the middle. kinda enemies-to-lovers? (but only one of these idiots thinks they're enemies).

let me be real with you: this fic is really about wish-fulfillment. not just the eventual smut (but that too). mostly i just want someone to be nice to my best boy raccoon back to main masterlist.

so many amazing sweet wonderful readers have drawn fanart of this fic??? ♡♡♡♡♡ jolie is written without much physical description so you can imagine whatever you want but if you'd like to see how i and others imagine her, i've linked them below. thank you for being the absolute sweetest.

jolie's painting of rocket by @hibataao3 makes me cry every time i look at it

very first portrait of jolie by @raccoonmybeloved ~ so fucking cute i died

sims of jo by @evolvingchaoswitch ~ particularly love her paint-spattered outfit

an absolutely drool-worthy nsfw of rocket & jolie by @lazarel-3000 that permanently has altered my brain chemistry and lives in my mind forever ♡♡♡

adorable jolie sketches by @moonnpiie that truly capture what i mean when i describe jo as having “everywhere-hair.” plus her lil art-glove! (and a really cute rocket)

the cutest jo by @frostedwitch in her chapter xxvii sweatshirt. she is so cute with such shiny eyes and cute freckles and i love her so so so much! ♡♡♡

this shiny-haired jo by @miinsie! i love her hair so much in this one - it almost looks iridescent. i swoon. thank you for taking the time to read and to share this lovely interpretation of jolie with me!

and here are my jolie character concepts (complete full-color illo & rough doodles) and an illustration of one of my fave scenes from window ♡

✧･ﾟ:*collects Chapters I-XXVII (below the cut) & a holiday special && a silly epilogue

Chapter I. A Delicacy. in which our reluctant heroes meet atop a crate of Sovereign porn in the bowels of a Ravager ship.

Chapter II. Monster For A Pet. in which one hero wrestles with his inner Groot, and the other is quite possibly a moron.

Chapter III. A Kindness. in which Rocket gets in his own damn way: not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Chapter IV. Got There First. in which our heroes obtain an arsenal and street food.

Chapter V. Things No-One Has Said Before. in which one hero refuses to babysit and the other refuses to leave.

Chapter VI. Two and a Half Billion Units. in which we lean into the “they were roommates” trope. Jolie has misgivings, while Rocket has fantasies - about getting rich, of course.

Chapter VII. I'm Here. in which we visit Knowhere.

Chapter VIII. The Care & Feeding of Human Pets. in which our heroes practice breathing and we lean into a new trope: “there was (technically) one bed.”

Chapter IX. Scrapmetal and a Dream. in which we redefine homemaking.

Chapter X. Thin Fucking Ice. in which our heroes get fucked. Not in the good way.

Chapter XI. Let It Be .in which Xandar is saved and good lives are lost.

Chapter XII. So Much It Hurts. in which we try not to fuck up the vibes.

Chapter XIII. Don’t Wait. in which a lost sister is found and Drax grapples with the concept of sarcasm.

Chapter XIV. Exactly Like a Flower. in which comfort is shared.

Chapter XV: Galaxy-Breaking Shit. in which more comfort is shared, and life is good. Briefly.

Chapter XVI. Run. in which Rocket falls victim to his superstitions.

Chapter XVII. A Seedling. A Fox. A Little Girl. in which the party is divided.

Chapter XVIII. I Happen to Know a Guy. in which our heroes get fucked. Again. Still not in the good way.

Chapter XIX. He Was Loved. in which a planet is killed, a friend is made and lost, and nobody still has any frickin’ tape.

Chapter XX. Some Nerve. * in which an ultimatum is given.

Chapter XXI. I Very Still. ❤︎❤︎ in which our heroes get fucked. In the good way, this time. Finally.

Chapter XXII. Got There Worse. ❤︎❤︎ in which Rocket does not say "I love you."

Chapter XXIII. We're Gonna Need a Bigger Table. ❤︎ in which the galaxy just keeps spinning.

Chapter XXIV. Space Would Be Better. ❤︎❤︎ in which Rocket ~ discreetly ~ claims the title of boyfriend.

Chapter XXV. Little Love Stories. in which both of our heroes learn a little about themselves. ❤︎

Chapter XXVI. Other Side of the Window. in which old friends are reunited. ❤︎

Chapter XXV. The Most Beautiful Thing in My House. in which our heroes finally get what they deserve.❤︎

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ Winter Across the Galaxy * ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ a holiday special *

Epilogue: Interviewing Rocket & Jo. ten years after Window ends. short, silly fluff.

explicit lines or references* abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

[alatariel-gildaen]

Everything's going wrong, and I really feel like I'm about to lose it.

Firstly, we're stuck in a maisonette with rising damp and mould, and the freeholders are doing precisely NOTHING about it all.

This has caused major respiratory conditions for all three of us. The worst of the damp and mould is in my disabled son's bedroom - this is what it currently looks like in there

The wallpaper and plaster have fallen away, the wall itself is actually wet, I'm cleaning mould up every day. We've had to throw away toys, bedding, books, and clothes of his that have been destroyed by mould.

We can't move, because we own the flat and no one will buy it with this problem, and we can't fix it ourselves, because its a structural issue that is the responsibility of the freeholder, and they have done nothing but ignore our pleas for the last 2 and a half years.

Ok, ready for the rollercoaster that's making me lose it? Strap in.

Now, as my son is disabled, and we're a relatively low income family, we were able to apply to the family fund for a holiday, something we've not been able to afford to do for YEARS.

This Friday, we're due to fly out to the south of France for a week. The FF awarded us £500 towards the holiday, but we had to pay the rest out of our savings, costing us just about £1200, and depleting our savings to nothing. We figured it'd be worth it - the holiday park we're going to sounds utterly perfect for him, with lots of nature, wildlife, and secure facilities with easy access. Something we simply wouldn't have even considered without the FF's help. Yes, it was still expensive, but the memories would be utterly priceless.

A couple of week's ago my car's engine light came on. Honestly something I'd probably be ignoring right now normally, but my husband was due to take his driving test in it this week before we fly out, and we are pretty sure that you can't take it in a car with the engine light showing. We managed to get it seen, and it requires around £800 worth of repairs. I cannot function without a car - it's absolutely vital for transporting my son and keeping him safe.

As I mentioned before, we've all had respiratory problems linked to the mould. My poor son seems to have a permanent frog in his throat. I've been diagnosed with asthma following a cough that I've had now since last November. A few weeks ago, my husband developed a similar nasty cough. And last week that cough suddenly got worse. He was vomiting due to the cough, in pain from head to toe, shivering and shaking.

Yesterday it was so bad, we called NHS 111, and they were so worried, they sent out an ambulance.

He's been admitted to hospital with pneumonia caused by the damp and mould. He can't take his driving test (obviously) and we are most likely going to lose out on our holiday.

I'm self employed but been unable to work much due to illness, but I'm going to have to put that aside.

So, I'm begging you, please help out a struggling artist, mother to a disabled child, and wife to a terribly ill husband. If I can book in a few pet portraits, I'll be able to cover our mortgage this month, and hopefully recover some of our lost holiday money, as well as keep my car on the road.

Here are some examples of my work.

Mostly I work in coloured pencil on pastelmat, although occasionally I can also do drafting film (if the subject allows for it) Commissions are £140 for an A4 piece and that will include postage to anywhere in mainland UK - outside of the mainland, of course I'll have to charge extra for postage.

I appreciate these aren't cheap, but a lot of work goes into them. If you could please reblog to get this seen, I would appreciate it so so much.

I am in the process of setting up a website for these, but feel free to contact me here in the meantime.

Thank you so much for taking time to read, and reblogs to signal boost are hugely appreciated

[melody-sy]

uty neutral route spoilers (big ones) below the cut

that fake snowdin section in the flowey fight has got to be the scariest thing I've seen in a game like this and it is amazing how uncomfortable i felt throughout the whole thing... like actually, i love it so much. i wanna take a moment to ramble about it >.>

you know how much I love martlet and seeing her killed right in front of me just a while ago was already such a devastating blow, but the fake martlet here? oh my god the fake martlet. the way she speaks without a dialogue portrait, the way her dialogue is written to be just so slightly off, the way her face briefly changes when she comes in to hug you, but what got me the most was how she melts into a goopy mass

and it's still recognizable by color, it's martlet goop alright. it doesn't despawn or disappear or turn to dust either. it's like being in the room with a corpse of someone you love and you can't do anything about it

my first instinct when playing this section was to turn around and go back to where I came from... but, this snowdin is a fake, there's no going back, there's no other path... the only way out is to get uncomfortably close to the goop that was once martlet, that little detail right there is probably my favorite thing about this section... it's placed in such a narrow corridor that in order to leave you basically have to be touching it on your way out, and let me tell you i felt so much dread when i finally realized that this was my only option. can you tell that im very uncomfortable with corpses?

when monsters turn to dust, it's like having a childhood pet die peacefully, while your parents put them in a box so that you never have to see them dead. when fake-martlet melts, it's like seeing a beloved pet get run over but you still have to cross the street

i also have to mention the sound design here because what!?!?!?!??! I don't know what it is, but the track "snow" fills me with just the right amount of dread for what's to come. and that sound that fake-martlet makes as she melts before your eyes .........

and the fact that this section ends with you riding martlet's boat into the abyss is the icing on the martlet goop, honestly... flowey is pulling at your emotions, and seeing your (real) best friend that he had just killed come back in the scary mind dimension only to die in front of you AGAIN wasn't enough, oh no! he just had to rub it in immediately after by bringing back martlet's boat-- the boat that caused you to go so wildly off course from flowey's plan in the first place-- but this time there's no need to worry, because it takes you straight to him :)

this whole segment that lasts less than a minute is just so good i needed to get my thoughts out -o-

[claypigeonpottery]

Heyyyyy~ I'm just... So in love with all the work you do, they're all so precious and beautiful I'm in tears. Thank you so for what you do, can't wait to buy something you made soon :D

If it's okei, can you please tell the story of how you got into this and how did you progress from being babie artist to now growing artist and how long you've been doing this for? What's your top 3 fav works you've done? Did you eat good food today, if not please dooo. Thenks

thank you! that's very sweet x3 I'm excited to get more stuff fired and up on Etsy, hopefully before the end of June

.

choose three favourites of my work? oh, that is a difficult question.

one thing I really didn't like about my art when I was younger was that it was all very static. it was people sitting or standing, it was still life paintings. one of the things I'm really proud of in my work now is the sense of capturing a moment instead of someone posing, and/or giving a sense of movement

these two are just the opposite of static and I love them for that

and then there's this mug. the design is great, the details are great and I had so much fun carving it. it was honestly just delightful and I wish I'd kept it. I don't say that very often.

all sold

.

I'm putting the rest of this under a cut because I'm going to ramble

I started drawing because I was making silly comics about me and my friends in grade school and through high school (I assigned them all fursonas because I was a really cool 15 year old lol)

I got a little more serious about art in high school, but I never thought it'd be something I'd make money at.

when I was... in my early twenties? maybe 19 still? ah, memory issues, I went through a nine month art program, the 'Urban Canvas' project run by SCYAP (saskatoon community youth arts programming). the program is meant to support young artists, especially those with mental health or addiction issues. and it meant I got paid to draw and paint and create weird shit for 40 hours a week, for nine months. and then some (seven? eight?) years later I got to go through the program again which... honestly I'm so grateful I got to do that. (and SCYAP still supports me, they give me a table at their craft show every year and helped me with my first solo gallery show)

these are some of the pieces I made during my time at SCYAP:

and two very rare pictures of me, posing with two of my master studies. the left from when I was 20ish, and the right when I was... 27ish? (man I'm still proud of that Gentileschi copy)

.

it was after SCYAP when I started thinking that I could actually make money as an artist. so I painted more than a dozen murals, drew a 20-some page full colour comic, painted pet portraits, and sold my own paintings. commissions were more reliable than selling my own work for a long time lol

as for how I got into pottery, my mental health uh... haha. it took a nosedive about six years ago and during some of the worst of it, I was severely agoraphobic. my mom, who has always supported my art, offered to take me to pottery classes with her, in an attempt to get me leaving the house at least once a week. it did help (along with a lot of other things) and once I started exploring the surface decoration side of pottery, things really clicked for me

.

tangent: one of the things that really drove me to progress as an artist was having something driving my work. whether it was preparing for a gallery show or making a bunch of holiday cards or making piles of fan art because I was obsessed. every time I made something, anything, I improved. so when I had a goal that made me create more, I improved faster.

my unsolicited advice: make that weird fan art. it's good for your art. (I was really into tf2 lol)

.

I've tried tons of different mediums and I think it was a great way to help my style evolve.

when you're making art with a new medium, it might take awhile before you're making your own personal work. I, at least, find that I usually have to do some studies of other peoples' art and just try some basic creations before I do anything more personal. but once I'm ready to do MY stuff, I have a new repertoire to pull from. I wouldn't be the potter I am if I didn't have the experiences I got from other mediums

like acrylics (I did a lot of self portraits >.>)

paper flower making

watercolour

collage

cake decorating

(also oil paints, pastels, 3D wire art, crochet, linocut, stone carving, sewing, set painting and quilting. also my spouse and I like to make crafts together, like cutting-construction-paper, gluing-pompoms-and-googly-eyes crafts, because it's just fun to make stuff together)

I'm sure pottery isn't the last medium I'm gonna try. I'll probably get obsessed with carving tiny wooden figurines or making wax sculptures at some point. who knows!

.

and now I'm in my mid-thirties, making art pretty much every day. I've been doing this since I was a teenager, so almost twenty years now.

I never imagined I'd be satisfied with my own art, that I could look at most of my pieces and not see how I could have done it better, but hey, here I am.

.

wow that was rambly. the ADHD really comes out when I'm writing lol. and I did eat real food today! before having some freezies

thanks so much for your ask, hopefully I satisfied your curiosity