laurel's art bloggy

laurel // 21 // college student // open commissions // I watch the tag "laurel-draws"

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new account

gonna be moving over to a different domain; it’s still gonna be 

@laurel-draws 

and if you want to follow my fma-art blog - @friendlieutenant

@gekkeiju is my main where i post memes and other trash

thanks for bein a follower, but sorry i never post on here anymore, lmao

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a little sneaky peak

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i’m really excited because i’m more than a minute into my royai art mv, following paramore’s ‘the only exception’. it follow’s riza’s early childhood, just after her mother’s death, and i basically try to explain some things with headcanons. i’m just about to have roy enter as berthold’s apprentice. well. sort of almost. it’s a 4.5 minute song and i’m about 1 minute 10 seconds in... he enters around 2 minutes? oooof. it’s probably the most fulfilling project going on, and i don’t know if it’s feeding or helping my depression.

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riza at her mother’s funeral

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riza with her mom

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mrs. hawkeye with baby riza

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r o y a i 

( because i never get tired of it!! )* a digital rendition of a thing i already did

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riza’s early life

(so, i’ve been working on some drabbles for riza; i might open up my ao3 account soon just to start posting them, but for now, i’ll get my ideas down here. i’d love to do a comic, and auagaksjdnaksjd. i love royai. :-((((( )

“I was still a little girl when my mother left this world. It was hard on both of us—my father and I. He retreated into his research, and I was torn between mirroring his pain and savoring the small remainder of my childhood. I spent an equal amount of time in the vast yard, quietly climbing trees and building small forts out of detached branches and tangled brambles, as much as I did tucked away in my room studying.

“We became strangers to each other. I would return home from school to an empty home. There was no warmth left as he became consumed with his research. Even when my mother was alive, it was obvious that his dedication to his work caused tension, but she stayed. There was no doubt of their devotion to one another, to me, even as the waters became rough. There was a point of time where he stopped studying altogether, but that was when my mother fell ill, and her condition rapidly declined. He spent hours by her side, talking and reading to her as I curled up against her side.

“Those were the last few times that I saw him for the man he was. When I saw his heart opened to the world. Especially in the months after her death, that part of him disappeared. All of my mother’s things were moved out of sight—into the attic or thrown away. I salvaged one of the few photos I had of her, hiding it under the slat of a broken floorboard of my room to keep it safe from it being burnt to ashes.

“It was as if he tried to erase all of her. But as I grew up, not even he could deny that I was the spitting image of my mother.

“Some parts of me resented his weakness. I was so young, and, after all, I had lost her, too. Still, that same vulnerability was one of the few things that allowed me to realize my father was human. He let himself become captive to his work as a way to escape the pain, but it was apparent that even that wasn’t enough.

“I was eleven, almost twelve, when he called upon an old family friend to cut my hair. The long blonde locks that I shared with my mother were promptly cut, one of the last things I had of her. Sometimes I can still feel her combing her soft fingers through my hair. I mainly remember looking at my father as he turned away, unable to look at me as I sobbed quietly.

“Then it was short. I don’t remember him ever looking at me directly in the eyes after that, and I don’t know if that was because of the guilt of everything, or because he couldn’t stand to look into my eyes and see my mother.”

(ehhh... whatever; make me sad)

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Inktober, prompt 2, kiss

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Inktober, prompt 1, forehead touch

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Out of order, but Inktober prompt #3, hug

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02.01.18

I miss you

Even while you’re at my side

Because I know

You’ll leave soon

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01.25.18

when it’s the flame that can be eliminated with fingertips to the wick—

when it’s the delicate glass that is blown into existence, radiant, but fragile—

confidence, so misconstrued,

i know why you crumble

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Tag Game / Get To Know Me

Tagged By: @shiningshovels 🌸 Thanks, Jenn, my sweet bb.

Nicknames: Laurel-Floral, Roro/Wowo, Rory — these are all older, so most people just call me Laurel. c:

Gender: Woman (as uttered in Bill Clinton’s voice).

Star Sign: Taurus.

Height: 5'10’’. I’m a skyscraper, sorry.

Time: 9:57 pm.

Birthday: May 3rd.

Favorite bands/solo artists: The 1975, Panic! at the Disco, Cat Power, Arctic Monkeys, Young the Giant, Joji, Fleetwood Mac, and Marina and the Diamonds.

Song currently stuck in my head: “Sea of Love” by Cat Power and the ukulele cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by 21 Pilots.

Last movie: Star Wars: the Last Jedi.

Last TV: Grey’s Anatomy (rewatching), the last show I finished watching for the first time was The Good Place.

Why did you create this blog: To catalog my art basically. Wanted a good spot to simultaneously share OCs and put up fanart.

What do you post/reblog: My art, poetry, sometimes text posts (my main blog is @laurel-is for that stuff, though), but mostly I’ll reblog art references and promote my friends’ art. c:

Last thing you googled: “Can’t Help Falling in Love Ukulele Chords,” lol.

Why the url: LOL because I’m not creative and I like my name (fun fact: I hated my name in elementary school because I had no one to share it with).

I follow: 480.

Followers: 47 on this blog, 196 on my main.

Lucky Number: According to numerology, 2, 4, 20, 22.

Instruments: Clarinet, saxophone, piano, ukulele, melodica, some trumpet. Might learn some guitar because I have one, but I’m lame.

What are you wearing: A bralette and pajama shorts, lol. TIME FOR BED.

Dream Job: I hope to become a teacher at my high school, and maybe do illustrations to accompany children’s books. If I could be anything and have any amount of talent to go with it, then I would probably want to be a doctor. 

Dream Trip: Canada, England, Estonia, Russia, Japan, Guam, China, Chile, Argentina, Tibet, India, Kenya, Morocco, Turkey, Iceland, the country-continent where everything wants to kill you, Thailand, New Zealand, and Denmark. Not all at once, lol. I just think these would be cool places to visit, disregarding political climate. I just want to swim and climb and adventure.

Favorite Food: I love sushi and musubi. I’m down for any pasta dishes, though. Also, I’m pretty in love with Earl Grey tea.

Favorite Song: I’ve been listening to “I Got” and “Cough Syrup” by Young the Giant a lot, but “If I Believe You” by The 1975, “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron, “Do I Wanna Know” and “Snap Out of It” by the Arctic Monkeys are all favorites as of recent. Older favorites include: “Death of a Bachelor” by Panic! at the Disco, “Too Much Love” by Belle and Sebastian, “Candycane Jane” and “The Ballad of Sebastian Jackson” by Walk the Moon, “Antebellum” by Vienna Teng, “Say You Love Me” by Fleetwood Mac, and “Slipped” by the National. SORRY, it’s a lot. I have lots of favorites. This isn’t even half of it, lol.

Last book you read: I’m still currently finishing it, but “Memoirs of a Geisha” by Arthur Golden. I love to read, but I don’t get the chance or motivation to do so as much anymore. Riprop.

Top 3 universes: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Poke’mon, and the universe in which I have money to spoil friends and donate to people. D-:

I tag: @lexax-naxfig, @nurse-becky, @trilobite-knight, @atop-the-hill, @thepurplesketchpad, and @scrs. <3

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first digital piece in a while

some lazy royai

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🌱

Every shadow that settles at the edge of my vision

I hope is you.

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Envy

Thoughts of you           Ooze in syrupy silence           Under my skin.

I always hope that           When I look in your daydreamer’s eyes           Maybe I’ll see a mirror of myself.

Instead I’m engulfed           By the grief that comes with           The reflections reaped by another.

Simmer, simmer,           I’ll lower the flames,           But this reckless hope is engraved in me.