smallest toe


First of a series I’m doing. “Fleshed out” snapping turtle based on a skeleton I articulated. Painting was done with gouache paint and some watercolor, and is around 8x10″. The skeleton was completely apart to begin with, and everything is drilled and wired or pinned. As you can see it can stand up, supporting the shell, on it’s own. Really like how that one came out. Both are for a local university. 
(Note if you’re using the skeleton as a reference, the smallest toe is missing on every foot)

anonymous asked:

"You put mummy through a lot of pain but that's okay we still love you" HARRY TALKING TO HIS FIRST LIL BABY after his girl is getting some sleep and it's just him and New bubba :((((((((((


He’s counting and recounting every single finger and toe. Listening to their tiny snuffles as they snooze against his chest. He’s so tired and his eyes are heavy, and he’s pretty sure his hair must be a mess and he has to smell at bit, but he can’t stop looking at the tiny, tiny, being that’s now curled up with him. Two hours ago, they were a bump. A bump he sang to, and read books to. The same little toes that would kick him in the back towards the end of the pregnancy, were now resting against his stomach, the smallest toes he’s ever seen fanning out as he stroked his thumb along the wrinkly sole. He holds one of their tiny hands against his fingers, smoothing his thumb over where their knuckles will eventually be. He thinks of all their hands will hold. He runs a thumb over the shell of their ear. How can everything be so small?

The baby stirs and blinks as they open their eyes, trying to look up at him and their bright, new world

“Hi,” Harry cooed. “Hi, lovey.” He moves his hand to rest on their soft tummy, warm and full from their first feed. He can feel his cheeks stinging from the smile that feels permanent. “Hi. Did you have a nice sleep? It’s a lot, this being born, isn’t it?” He’s whisper quiet as he knows his love is finally getting a much deserved rest just a few feet away. “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s gotcha, okay?” Daddy. He laughs quietly. He’s somebody’s daddy. He baby latches their tiny fingers around his, tongue poking out between lips that look suspiciously like his. “You know, you’re the best thing I’ve ever helped make. I love you.” He brings the baby up close and lets his lips fall against their forehead, taking a moment to savor that honey-soft smell. “I love you so much.” He brings their palm to his lips, kissing gently. “You were a little hard on your mumma, weren’t you?” Hours and hours of pushing on top of a labor that had gone on for nearly two days. He remembers, in his blissful haze right after his disgruntled little baby was brought to her chest, the midwife mentioning a “second degree tear” and  calling the doctor in for stitches. He’d shivered at the thought, bursting with adoration for her at her strength. You were just so cozy in there, huh? I don’t blame ya. Your mummy is amazing. We love you more than you know, little one.” xx.

A Day to Ourselves

My part of an art trade with @lonicera-caprifolium. I decided to write a fic to go with one of my favourite drawings of her, which can be found here

I hope you like it!

There was a serenity to mornings in Bull’s room that Dorian had never really imagined he could have. The war was won, Corypheus was dead, the Chargers were off doing a small job in the east of Ferelden, and for now, at least, there was no pressure for Dorian or Bull to leave their room, or even their bed if that’s what they felt like doing.

Bull was still dozing, just as happy as Dorian to enjoy a quiet day every once in a while. Dorian was already well and truly cuddling into Bull’s side, his head on Bull’s shoulder, and one of Bull’s arms around him, holding him close.

It was calm and easy, and Dorian wished he could have stayed like that forever.

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“Chief Singh stopped by today,” Barry remarks from the otherroom, the sound of his voice muffled by the sound of lightly running water and punctuated by the tap of plastic against porcelain. His head peaks out from around the corner, his lips quirked up in a grin that carries just the slightest hint of lingering toothpaste. “I think he almost had a heart attack, when he realized I was not only on time for work but early.”

Looking up from her spot on the bed, pausing in the painstaking process of painting her toenails, Caitlin laughs lightly. In the intervening years since Captain Singh had been promoted to chief and moved to the district office on the other side of Central City, she has almost forgotten about Barry’s former supervisor. Yet the second Barry mentions him, she can’t help but remember the man’s constant frustration over Barry’s tardiness. “Good thing Hartley makes him eat all that healthy food then.” It hasn’t been quite as long since she’d thought about the man behind the Pied Piper and although they’re on good terms now, that memory is a little tainted. She returns to her nails, three left from finished. “What did the chief want?”

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anon asked: omg so idk if you saw but when the moderator was like "but cap REALLY loves bucky." Chris called Seb 'honey' so I would love maybe a 5+1 times fic of Chris calling Seb pet names? Or whatever direction you want to take it in lmao I love your writing!! 😊💖💞

Good god, anon, you know the way to my heart.

Submit your prompt / want / headcanon / whatever

1: “Babe, we’re -” Chris cuts himself off when he smashes his baby toe into the edge of the hotel bed and staggers against the mattress, “Ow, fuck!”

From the attached sitting room, Seb wanders in, pulling a t-shirt down over his stomach.  He frowns at Chris, now sitting on the foot of the bed and clutching his bare foot in his lap, and asks, “What the hell are you doing?”

Fuck,” Chris swears again, passionately.  He grimaces at his foot - the smallest, weakest toe of them all taking on a metal bed frame - and has to shake his head before explaining, “Stubbed my toe.  We’re gonna be late.”

Seb gestures down at himself, says, “I’m ready, you’re not even wearing shoes.”

The look Chris levels at him makes Seb laugh.  He kneels against the fancy hotel room carpeting, taking care not to dirty his clean pants, and pets Chris leg until he stops swearing.

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