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Rebirth I by Tomasz Artur Bolek via @tutuclearwater via @x2s

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backgrounds for my thesis animation

instagram // print shop

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The Camp

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fairies, drawn in 2019

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OC commission!

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Dead and undead are the same thing right

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I don’t even have a cool caption for this I just wanted to draw Cazador in the Peter death pose

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👒🍒🌞

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Joust ⚔

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First two panels of a Farrier Triptych.

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Your gargoyle boyfriend is always very well groomed.

Though, you never really put any thought into the routine involved in how he stayed that way. At least not until you spent the night at his apartment for the first time.

You’re woken by a horrible high-pitched grinding noise- a squeal so invasive that once it’s in your ear there’s no chance you’re getting back to sleep.

Construction outside, maybe?

Groggily, you wriggle out on bed and totter to the open bathroom door to investigate the source.

In front of the sink is your boyfriend, shirtless and slightly bent over the sink with a fluffy white hand towel thrown over one shoulder. One clawed hand holds some sort of device to his face, and the other holds his chin stable to one side. He’s very focused on his task, but his stone wings uncurl slightly in interest when he sees you approach in the mirror.

The noise stops when he clicks off the object in his hand.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” He asks your reflection, a bit sheepish. “I suppose I don't really think about the noise when I'm here alone.”

”No harm, about time I got up anyway,  to be honest- That's a sander?” You squint, incredulous, and point to the device in his claws. “Like, a belt sander.”

“More like a small angle grinder, but you get the geist.” He laughs.

Without thinking to ask, you reach out and touch the freshly finished sides of his face. The small hint of pink gemstone spines that had begun to reemerge from his jaws are gone. The texture is now familiar smooth tawny stone under your fingers, with an additional fine layer of pale grit.

When you pull your fingers back to observe, they’re coated in a thin layer of sparkling rose quartz dust. It looks a bit like the edible glitter some of your cakes get decorated with.

Straightening his posture, your gargoyle takes the damp towel from his shoulder and cleans the pink-hued dust from your fingertips.

“Would it be a problem to breathe this in? Like, should I be wearing a ventilator mask or something?”

“Nope. It’s enchanted against spraying small particles into the air.” Satisfied with your hands’ cleanliness, he then takes the towel to the pale pink sheen coating the side of his stony jaw. “The whole room would be pink by now otherwise… Not that I think you’d mind.”

“Don’t give me any ideas…” You tease back, as if you are not already thinking about what shade of pink might look best on the walls.

“Would you like to give it a try?” He asks facetiously, giving the grinder’s button a brief tap of his thumb. It whirs in obedience.

“No thanks, I’m good.” You chuckle. “I’ll stick to my normal razor, I think.”

“Suit yourself.” He quips playfully as he begins to clean off the head of the machine. You don’t think you have it in you to keep up a grooming routine with quite that level of maintenance.

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"I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see"

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no im fine im just imagining a world where advances in technology were pushed by collaboration for the betterment of the world instead of driven by competition for increasing profits

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union cut off my insurance so until may 1st im not gonna have some of my antidepressants :(((( what da hell!!!

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It feels like this every time I write a fic