hey guys i’m opening up art commissions for anyone who’s interested!
i mainly do traditional art – either pencil/pen sketches, colored pencil drawings, or acrylic paintings.
i can do:
humans/humanoid characters
monster characters
some animals (ask for specifics)
landscapes
if you get a sketch or colored pencil drawing, i can send you a fully scanned version AND mail the original copy to you for free! i can also ship acrylic paintings, but you will have to pay a few extra dollars since shipping a canvas will cost a little more money.
please send me a dm if you’re interested or have any questions!
Hey Everybody! To celebrate my art blog hitting 100+ followers I’m going to be featuring reduced commission prices for the next month (Until May 30th)! Come and get it while it’s hot, all pricing is in CAD!
Contact me via DMs here on tumblr, and check out my other art for more reference!
Same rules apply as usual:
I reserve the right to reject requests
I will need a reference or detailed descriptions for OCs and D&D characters to bring you the best product possible
I’m up for trying anything!
Payment:
Payment is through PayPal only (CAD)
Payment is upfront (refunds can be made depending on how far I am in the piece)
Declines and cancellations on Patreon were bad this month, like, worse than usual (I lost 8 patrons alone the week after Denver and everyone who’s newly signed up has been declined). I put all my money into a savings account in early October and it’s only accessible if I pay a fee per $10 withdrawn, so if you want to support an Indigenous/Mexican creator during Native American Heritage Month, you can do the following:
Subscribe to my Patreon - I have a few spots left for my cheapest tier and 3 spots in my $10 tier (commissions for November are open until the 5th)
Buy my jewelry - I haven’t made a sale in a while and I know people are heading to conventions soon, so feel free to stop by and snag something to wear in your photo ops or make a jewelry commission!
Subscribe to my Ko-Fi - help me get to a convention without having to worry about making my table/hotel/etc. back with either a one-time donation or a monthly subscription that will get you product from my fragrance shop each month. I don’t get the same traction that white-owned small businesses in SPN/Marvel fandom do, so any donation here helps.
aaaa i love painting environments! It really makes me feel so calm most of the time(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I’m thinking of selling the high quality versions of my art in packs so 5 for the price of 2 if your interested contact me @djravengamer on insta! UwU
Here is the first chapter, I hope I will get to post weekly. If the prologue raised question marks, this one might be even more confusing. Hahahaha.
MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY.
Wordcount:2,7k words
Warnings: violence, strong language.
RAMONA
Duality, especially in nature, manifests in all kinds of forms: harsh winters bring the most beautiful and treasured memories during the holidays, gentle springs often end up initiating tempestuous storms, romanticized summers tend to melt away all of the remaining love. Yet, autumn is the one that marks death and rebirth at the same time. It holds the warmth of late summers and the chilliness of early winters. As migratory birds choose to fly away from the unforgivable winter, others remain in their place, embracing change, embracing survival, embracing death.
After years of writing vampire fanfiction, I decided to jump in and write my own series. Please, read the warnings below. Hope you enjoy!
MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY.
Wordcount: 2,5k words
Warnings: s*xual harassment, minor character death, violence, blood, fatphobia/body-shaming, racism, strong language.
BELLS
Something moved behind that dumpster; it definitely was not human.
Shards of glass, broken syringes and pieces of the surrounding rotten buildings crowded the alley. Some segments of a broken fence tried to keep unwelcome visitors away from the abandoned hospital’s yard. Once it held a high status, now it was standing on remaining memories. Fragments of murmurs and whimpers hung in the air, that’s all that could be heard in a neighbourhood such as the Needles. These sounds and the one coming from behind the dumpster.
It was unlike a regular engine, since that which he had just encountered was always to stand out from the congested traffic of Tōkyō. He did not although know whether it was its deep shade of black or the abnormal smoke coming from it. Or simply the fact that, if listened carefully, some could swear it was a neigh of a horse they had heard behind the so familiar industrial noise. This specific motorcycle was surely nothing like any other piece of metal. Nothing but a living urban legend that made these surroundings a subject of idle talk.
Warnings: Language, troubling topics such as depression and suicide.
Chapter 1
A single table at the back of the room was, admittedly, occupied. And there he was. The man scrutinised her from top to bottom. His arms lied upon the upper surface of the couch. A furred coat was hanging on a rack behind.
Ok, so I did some spontaneous writing and came up with what turned out to be a Drr!! premise. I also find my English kind of rusty (this being the first time in a while I write in another language than my own) so I’m terribly sorry if there are some mistakes in there. I am trying, however, to improve my writing and expend some extra effort to ensure that the story’s quality is as high as possible. That said, have a good read and a much more enjoyable day! ♡
OCs included
OCs x various
Prologue A
At the first glance, she seemed to be a regular young woman. Because she engaged herself in mundane routines such as work, household and nights out. She had friends. Encountered a history of lovers. She was deemed to be fairly social, but a mere human whatsoever. A human blending in with the colourless crowd walking around the streets of Tōkyō. A spectre going back and forth to the same doomed places. Not even after the woman had decided to move into a small apartment in Ikebukuro was she something to be reckoned with. Yet there was something about Mukōgawa Noriko that was to distinguish her from the ordinary.
She was an outrageous liar, a pretender. For the one who had started to commute from Toshima to Bunkyō, the professor whose heels slammed now over the wet avenue, did not know how it was to feel wholeheartedly. Regardless of how loud she laughed, she did not find anything truly funny. Cringed at horror movies just because the other ones did. Cried only out of empathy. If truth is to be told, empathy was the one emotional ability she could undergo, as Noriko was aware of all the other people’s feelings besides her own.
