stuff for art tuition and stuff yeah
i still cant draw feet/shoes in any way shape or form
Here’s a nice full-body image of Devon to replace that crap one I did a while ago.
Here’s a close-up without those silly glasses:
A late birthday present for Leotie. I’m slowly getting back into the swing of writing and this was like pulling teeth, but it was more than worth it. Aarhir is her lovely character, and Farnynn is an adapted version of Faruq to fit in the realm of Middle Earth.
.::.::.The windows had been opened. A thick steam rolled out into the chill dark. The fire, choked in its grate, chased little cold away and gave littler light. Aarhir watched the water ripple around his legs. His knees, drawn up, pressed hard against his cheeks. The steam of the bath stung at his eyes. It stunk of charcoal and of sulfur, and the maid had excused it, saying it was drawn up hot already from some spring. His skin was red and pink and he’d sweated his hair damp before he had ever bothered sinking under. But the tub was deep and Farnynn was there, behind him.Farnynn had tipped himself back, legs splayed apart on either side of Aarhir’s hips. Head fallen over the edge of the rim of the tub, he stared at their room upside down. The bed was taken up with dusty and mud crackled clothes. There was a bundle of candle sticks, unlit, laid on the side table, and on the dresser drawer there was a pile of scabbards and knives.Aarhir gave a hard breath, and the water around him sloshed. Farnynn, curling up and forward, knocked his legs against the copper edges of the tub. “Are you alright?” He pressed his hand to Aarhir’s back.”Well. Tired, more than anything.” he croaked. His fingers fumbled over his shoulder. “Ah,” his hand knocked Farnynn’s, “there you are.” He laced their fingers together, and gave a squeeze. The other man’s palm was warm and rough on his. Farnynn hummed and leaned forward, his chest to Aarhir’s back.”Yes, here I am.” The lye soap had chapped their callouses, and despite the wet, Farnynn’s skin still rasped against Aarhir’s. His stubble tickled the back of Aarhir’s neck. “Pull your head up for me.” Aarhir felt his breath on his shoulder. “Let me wash your hair.” Farnynn pressed a kiss at his neck. His free fingers wound around Aarhir’s middle beneath the water.His tongue ran the inside of his cheek as Farnynn brought him back against his chest. He let himself pool into the other man’s arms, his hands pushing up Farnynn’s thighs to settle on his knobbled knees. Thick ropes of scar cut under his kneecaps on both sides, a mottled and angry purple color.The fingers around his middle slunk away, and Aarhir sighed. The water burbled and Farnynn dumped the last of a bottle of some stinking flower oil into the bath. Vanilla, from the south. He watched it slip through the water, a milky wisp of smoke that tangled in the water and wound around his body and Farnynn’s.A chill ran up his spine when half cold oil dribbled on his scalp. He winced. “Relax. It’s not going to burn you.” Chuckling, Farnynn scrubbed his fingers up through Aarhir’s hair. It was stringy. He smoothed the oil over every part of hair. Then, the hard pads of his work worn callouses set to massaging Aarhir’s scalp. He made earnest, scrunching motions that made Aarhir’s skin tingle. Palms kneading up and rolling at the nape of his neck, Farnynn watched the oil lather. His fingers sculpted lazy shapes. whorls and ringlet curls around his knuckles, and netted tangles when he wasn’t watching. Aarhir’s head bobbed, his eyes glazing. Farnynn ran his knuckles on the scarred shells of his ears. His hands squeezed Farnynn’s knees hard.”You’re too warm,” Aarhir’s voice crackled.“‘Scuse you?””You’re too warm to be a man.”Farnynn’s nose scrunched up. The lathered, soapy hair in his fingers made crinkling sounds. “Does it bother you?””No. But you’re sure your mother never ran off with a beorning? Or even a very tall dwarf.” Farnynn could hear it, that wry smirk tipping his voice just the lightest pitch higher, hiding a giggle under his breath that came out as a gentle wheeze.”I’ll rinse this soap into your eyes,” Farnynn’s laughter wasn’t so hushed. It came with his words, bubbling and a little loud at the end. He ducked forward, cheek to cheek with Aarhir, and smiled at the elf. Farnynn nipping from his cheek to his jaw, Aarhir wheezed with more laughs.When the nipping turned more teasing, Farnynn was swatted away. “Stop, stop. Before this oil does burn my eyes.” He had squinted his eyes shut. Sure enough, the oil’s lather had dribbled down his brow, mussed his eyebrows, and just begun to leach across his lashes. “This smells awful. Do you use this to hide from orcs?” His lips pulled back and he gagged.”Wash it before I drown you,” Farnynn pushed his shoulder. He settled back, smirking and shaking his head. His legs spread out as Aarhir dunked his head down under the filmed surface of the water. His body slipped further down, till his toes and his feet and his calves were coming out at the other end of the tub. They knocked Farnynn’s and he raised a brow. His fingers went to the water, combing through the black hair that wisped and curled in the water. He scrubbed till the oil bubbled free and only a second after it wilted away, Aarhir kicked the lip of the tub.He rolled in the water, came up with his hair clinging to his eyes, his cheeks, his neck, facing the other man. Farnynn, laughing loud enough to make the water tremble, smoothed it back out of his face, and tucked it behind his ears. “You look like a dog.””And you look like a giant.””Ah you’re creative.” He pinched his cheeks, and when he smirked the glint of his teeth cracked through his lips.Aarhir stretched against the pinching and, with soft, willowed hands, he held Farnynn’s wrists. His nose brushed the other’s first. Farnynn knocked their chins, and Aarhir hummed at the rasp of stubble just before he ghosted his lips, parted, over Farnynn’s.They played at that over and over again, eyes just barely open and lips half touching before they shocked apart and went all over again. Aarhir wheezed laughs between their breaths, and Farnynn drew in long, low, shuddering inhales. He balanced himself chest on chest to Farnynn.”This is cruel bear baiting, Aarhir.”Aarhir tickled the pads of his fingers against the inside pulse of Farnynn’s wrists. He looked up through half lidded eyes. “That’s an exaggeration.””Says the boy at his game to the bear in his trap,” Farnynn said.”If this were reversed-“”Oh if it were reversed it’d be good fun. But it’s not.” He set to turning Aarhir back around again. Aarhir glowered as Farnynn peppered kisses on his cheek and chin and jaw. “You said you were tired. Rest.” He brought Aarhir’s head to his shoulder. His fingers ran up and down on the curve of Aarhir’s jaw. The elf slipped into his thoughts, turning only a small bit to nestle against Farnynn.
if anything was ever too cute it was these two
Last one for the night. Another non-fandom OC
Vatir, the serpentine dragon god of Mayhem in a make believe little world I have up in my head
mmrhnf still having drawing troubles like really extreme ones ugrh
uh yeah anyway Bruín’s only creative talent/hobby thing is wood carving
slowly drags self out of art block with dumb scribbles i felt like drawing bruín’s momma and poppa
during smaug’s attack on Erebor, Brom would be cowering away in his library and Aïla would climb in and rescue his ass and also kick some butts on the way over because i imagine a lot of dwarves would be panicking and hurting each other in that kind of chaos and this lady isnt gonna take any shit from any man trying to steal her belongings and mess with her girlfriends
MISANDRY
internet died so i just—
