#painting sun rays acrylic

[yukimuraruki-art]

Hi friends :3 I'm back with another acrylic painting - a landscape and... what shall I say?! It's bad x'D Or let's say this is not like I imagined it, and it's yeah experiementing with my current skills and learn more along the way. I first didn't want to upload it BUT I was thinking that it's actually quite important to show painting like these, because you know, not everything you produce will result in a masterpiece or result in something you have envisioned or intended. So here is my part on that. And you know, some art moots and besties said they'd even like it and pointed things out that they like and in the end I thought, yeah fair enough! I see that as well and as my skills will develop I can look back on this and think "Wow, I really have made a huge progress". Until then - look, I made a random actylic painting of a Lavender Forest.

[sketchypenface]

I felt like testing some more things in Photoshop, like how acrylic pour, markmade sponge acrylic paint and ink splatters would look when overlaid onto a scribbly oil pastel drawing. Very textured!

[sol-thorne]

Since the hype has seemed to skyrocket again with RUIN coming out, I thought I'd share this little sculpture of Sundrop I made a couple of months ago! 🌻🌞

Completely handmade, the little dude roughly fits in my hand. Materials used: aluminium foil and metal wires for the armature, Sculpey polymer clay, paper for his lil' rays, acrylic paints, pastels and colouring pencils (plus some glossy varnish). And a lot of time and dedication.

The DCA is a huge comfort character for me, mainly thanks to the fandom because I don't care much about FNAF. Sun is my blorbo baby boy I love him so much I needed him on my shelf.

[donatellawritings]

ahh hi tella!!! so happy that ur writing for obx :) i need to see how rafe would handle a latina sweeetheart 🎀 maybe she’s kie’s cousin? i just know he’d probably be such a cocky jerk ughhhhhh thx babe

omg i am blushing just thinking about this xo

you were laid on the warmed surface of your towel, leaning on your forearms as your sun kissed skin continued the drink in the intense rays, your white, cherry covered bikini clashing perfectly against your tanned complexion, you loved days at the beach, i mean, what better way to kill time, than to eat fresh fruits and listen to your favorite music, while taking in the stunning north carolina sun for all of its glory?

you continued to lay back, your sunglasses shielding your eyes as you hummed along to the amy winehouse song that flowed through your speakers. the sudden shadow that overtook your vision, now causing you to remove your sunglasses, your eyes squinted as you took in the sight of your cousin - kiara carrera.

your chest visibly rose and fell as you sighed, your squinted frown fading into a gleeful smile, “what’s up, kie?” you asked, your wispy eyelashes batting as she hastily dropped herself onto the sand beside you.

she quickly looked over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as she returned her attention back to you, her arm reaching over you stomach as she grabbed a red grape that sat in the sweaty sand-covered container that rested by your waist, “nothing, it’s just jj being — jj,” she sighed, popping the small fruit into her mouth.

you liked jj, platonically, of course.

“he seems nice,” you chirped, turning onto your stomach, the cherry decorated bikini bottoms that you wore, now wedged between the plush cheeks of your ass as it faced the warm sun.

kiara shrugs with a slight shake of her head, you could tell that she wanted to say more, but decided against it, the moment her eyes fell on your back.

your nails clashed against one another as you undid the knot that secured your bikini top, and concealed your perky breasts, eager to get as much of an even tan as possible, “why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned, reaching for a grape.

“i dunno — maybe it’s because you just undid your top?” kiara countered sarcastically.

you stuck out your tongue, placing the grape into your mouth, soft biting into the crispy fruit before resting the side of your cheek against the surface of your hand, “but, i hate tanlines,” you pouted with a laugh.

you and kiara were thick as thieves, and sure, the reasoning for why you had to live with your cousin wasn’t the most pleasant — but she loved having you around. you were raised as sisters, both of you holding the most intimate details about the other. and boy, did you both balance each other out well! you were bubbly and were quick to let anyone in, which served to be a detriment to you at times, nevertheless, you were a hopeless romantic who made it her business to find beauty in even the most mundane of things.

as you would say, you loved everything that was pretty. your blown-out hair was always shining, wispy eyelashes always curled immaculately, supple lips glazed in shimmery gloss, acrylic-enforced nails always painted in varying shades of pink or a simple french design. you loved wearing clothes that would show off your lower back and midriff - why? no rhyme or reason, you just like how it looked.

you had a heart of gold, wrapped in a bow, making it easy for those around you to be pulled into you and your dreamy ways.

it also made it just as easy for you to end up hurt and taken advantage of.

you and kiara remained engrossed in each other, laughter emitting from the both of you, “so, are you going to stay for the kegger or are we going home for dinner?” kie questioned, a smile remaining on her lips as she watched you try to tame your overwhelming fit of laughter.

you spoke with a giggle, “i don’t know, i promised tio that i’d help him with dinner, one of these days,” you whined, your innocent eyes searching kiara’s for any kind of pull towards your decision.

“okay, well we need to decide soon, before-” kiara began, her words ceasing as a large shadow suddenly towered over the two of you.

you straightened your neck, looking up through your lashes as the tall guy crouched down, your eyes following as he leveled with you. fuck, he was hot.

“shit, kie, y’didn’t tell me you had a secret hot sister,” the guy spoke, his bright blue eyes cutting into yours as swallowed thickly, your glossy lips now running dry.

you tried to remain as still as possible, your eyes widening at the realization that your bikini top was still untied.

“fuck off, rafe, she’s my cousin,” kiara scoffed with disgust.

you remained entranced by the guy, rafe, who kept his bright eyes on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a quick look over your shoulder, tilting his head at the sight of your untied top and barely-there bottoms.

“ah, cousin?” he asked mockingly, licking over his lips, “does this cousin of yours have a name?” he pushed, the glint of his chain peeking out from his crisp t-shirt now catching your eye.

you sweetly revealed your name, your oh-so slight accent spilling through as you subconsciously batted your pretty lashes up at rafe, “and you are,” you smiled, a toothy grin.

“rafe cameron,” he spoke sternly, ignoring kiara’s protests with a roll of his eyes as he leaned closer to you, until his lips reached your ear, “i’d shake your hand, but i wouldn’t want everyone at this beach to see what you got under there,” he cooed, his condescending tone like silk in your ears.

you couldn’t help but blush like a schoolgirl, much to your cousin’s dismay.

rafe decided to make push just a little bit more, “may i?” he spoke rhetorically, his large hands sliding down your shoulder blades.

“rafe, what the fu-”

you remained still, refusing to make eye contact with kiara as rafe tied the strings of your bikini top into a secure knot, “relax, kie - m’just making her decent,” he pulled away, standing firmly of his feet.

you’d be lying, if you said that you rafe’s hands against your warmed skin didn’t excite you. his touch was oddly tantalizing for you as you were forced to ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your legs.

you pushed yourself off of your front, now standing directly across from rafe, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of your chest as he was especially intrigued by the tan line that was revealed by the shifted cup of your bikini top.

“thank you, rafe” you spoke softly, holding out your hand as you took in the staggering height difference between you and the man before you, his buzz cut hair causing you to bashfully bite down into the sticky swell of your bottom lip.

rafe accepted your hand, the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue causing blood to rush to his length as he let out a dry chuckle, enclosing his fingers around your hand, watching closely as your breath slightly hitched from his subtle grip on your hand. you two remained like this for a beat as rafe sized you up — he could smell just how genuine and sweet you were, his mind carelessly wandering to how you’d look under him, taking him for all he has. you were much smaller than him, and it ticked a region in his tainted mind that suddenly ached to have you around in any way possible.

the sudden cut of a deep voice calling out didn’t even faze rafe as his lips curved into a smile, “yo! rafe, i’ve been looking everywhere for you man,” a taller blond guy appeared beside rafe.

rafe softly released your hand, before wiping the corners of his mouth with his index finger and thumb, exhaling sharply as he faced the blond, “well, top, i’ve been busy catchin’ up with good ol’ kie, and her pretty little cousin that’s she’s been hiding from us.”

the taller blond glanced at you, he was quicker to size you up, before redirecting rafe back into his original conversation. kiara softly grabbed your arm, carrying your speaker and container of grapes.

“let’s go home,” she nudged her head towards the street, completely privy to how dumbstruck rafe had made you. she could tell that you liked it and refused to ever allow rafe to get his hands on you.

at least, not when she was around.

“oh, okay,” you mumbled defeatedly, reaching down to grab your towel from the sand, quickly turning to face rafe who watched intently as you walked away.

“bye,” you mouthed with a small wave, before turning around to catch up with your feverish cousin.

rafe continued to feign interest in whatever the fuck topper was talking about, his eyes set on your body as you walked farther and father away from him. god, he loved the way your ass bounced with each step you took. in his fucked mind, he knew that kiara was right to keep you hidden, but now since you weren’t hidden, at least not from him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you were his, and his only.

of course, you being such a willing sweetheart made it all the more easier for him.

[comfortless]

in my pottery class thinking abt how much i would rather be painting with König rn pleading emoji btw

lele you are in my head always.. König being artsy..? awkward, spontaneous infatuation developing over sharing portraits of each other? yes yes… 💞

There’s a new man in your class that you have never seen before, not around the rest of the community center. The perplexing titan has chosen to take up painting, of all things, and you wonder as he steps through the threshold of the door how he will ever even be able to hold a brush without the wood splintering in those massive hands.

Painting is calming, gentle most of the time. Only, he embodies that feeling of a failed brush stroke, an accidental tilt of your wrist leaving a swirl of mottled colors that would take far longer to fix than it could ever be worth. Dark, dreary and tense as he seats himself directly next to you.

His creations are dark things, abstract shapes of gray and maroon; red lightning and murky sea. Each dip of pigment glistening off of your own brush leads to softer scenes; poppies and silhouettes of sweet creatures grazing and basking beneath the amber rays of a sun hanging lofty upon the canvas. Gentle things to warm a heart where as his own are to expel something from a chest wound, infected and bursting.

He takes note of your bewildered stares, two weeks after his joining, and even makes a point to place himself at the back of the room, far enough away to keep you from seeing the quivering of his wrist as he paints a new apocalypse. A mercy or an insult, you couldn’t be certain.

When the time comes to create a portrait of one of the other participants, you approach him without thought. “We can paint each other,” you offer, voice like a bowstring. He only nods, once, and allows you into the space adjacent to him as he shifts his long limbs beneath the table in an attempt to accommodate you.

Just mercy, it was, then.

König isn’t talkative, even as you pester over details and ask him to tilt his head a certain way just to ensure you’ve picked the perfect placement for one of the rogue freckles dotting his cheek. He complies with a wide-eyes stare, one that leaves you feeling a strange mixture of curious and uncomfortable. Each time you look up, you notice that the gaze hasn’t lessened, it only proves to be more incessant and intense.

You show him his portrait; attention drawn to the eyes, each fleck of fluorescent light painted in them with the same color used for the pale white of his scars. This is one to be proud of, a certain reverence to the piece that you’ve lacked entirely in your painted fields of little white and gray blotted sheep.

His version of you is a splash of dandelion yellow, flecks of pink in a sea of black. There’s no face to be seen, but it is beautiful in its simplicity. You marvel at it, holding the canvas up to the light and your eye catches on something— buried just below the still-drying paint, a small scrawling of your name in the shimmering gray of pencil lead. You almost think you can make out the shape of a small heart somewhere in that mess of cheap acrylic, too, before the piece is gently tugged from your hands.

“It needs to dry,” he tells you, casually discarding it back onto the wooden table and examining your depiction of himself instead.

You watch as his eyes seem to light up, that weariness within them suddenly gone as his stare drifts from top to bottom of your canvas. You know that you’ve done well, with a certainty when his focus shifts back to you and a barely-there smile is tugging at his lips.

He tells you that he can not paint anything like you, and when you ask him just what that means, he only tells you that you’re just too pretty. The reality is obvious— his hands shake, but only around you. You’ve seen him nodding along to something the instructor says to him as the older man leans over the table to inspect his art, and König has only seemed stiff, unbothered.

There’s a cup of chamomile tea prepared for him the next time he enters the room and you’re nothing but demure smiles and sweet greetings as König takes the space next to you once more.

It’s just as he’s taking a sip that you decide to innocently ask: “Have you ever painted anyone nude?”

He sputters for a moment, trying to conceal the rising tide of crimson that creeps up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns away from you.

“Nein, but I would like to try.”

[jasperthehatchet]

Patches part 3/??? I will never stop making these

The round patch in the middle is a mirrormask patch btw, there *will* be more

[Image ID: eight fabric patches laying on a cardboard background. Two rectangular off-white ones, one says "bauhaus" in all lowercase black letters and the other below it says "CISN'T" in green letters. There's a larger dark green square patch to the right of those that says "SHE PAST AWAY" in white scrappy lettering. Underneath the two white patches there's a large rectangular brown patch with a white fishbone painted on it.

In the middle there's a large circular dark green patch with a simplistic sun/moon design on it in black. The design is a black circle with a vertical line through it that turns right and back down through the circle to form a nose in the middle. There are two small horizontal lines on both sides of the circle to form eyes and one slightly longer line on one side of the face. On the side with no mouth, there are triangles on the outside of the circle to look like sun rays. This is the mirrormask patch mentioned in the post.

There are two anatchy patches under the mirrormask patch. One is a black square with a red anarchy symbol, and a smaller dark green circle patch with a black anarchy symbol on it.

The last patch, the one all the way on the right, is a large beige patch with a black coffin surrounded by green thorny vines, and the symbol on the coffin is the Type O Negative symbol, which is a black circle with two small gaps on the sides and a black dash in the middle of it.

All patches have designs painted on woth acrylic paint, and most patches are hemmed at the edges to prevent fraying. I'm very proud of these! End ID]

[the-enzyme]

I'm done modifying my MYou Bettina's eyes!! I am pleasantly surprised, that the Plastic Putty worked, considering how much larger this head sculpts eyes are, compared to the much tinier Leon's eyes. There are many things that could be improved, as I am just learning and I suck, to h3ll and back. However, I am pretty happy with how he looks now. I am not satisfied with my modifications; I wasn't able to sand the material as smoothly as I would have liked. It just doesn't sand well, sadly. And because this is not meant to do sculptural modifications, it is a bit of a learning curb for me. I am however, going to keep using it for tiny mods. I might change my mind later on and splurge on a tiny amount of Aves Apoxie, only not to ever use even a tenth of the .25z, I believe the product is as a whole. But for now, I am happy I found this works rather well.

I might try with my Mano too, since it's a tiny area that I want to mod (I want to widen his upper lip, so it would just be the outer corners that I would need to add material to). Next, I will try on a few fashion dolls that I've been itching to repaint and mod and will try to smooth out the product before it cures, so that I void needing to sand it, because it's definitely a pain in the gut to actually sand it.

I love my Bettina very much, I just wanted him to have smaller eyes, as those are my personal preference. I do like giant eyes, but I prefer them on hyperstylized cutesy younger dolls. Not so much on "older" characters, and he's supposed to represent my fan-art version of Ken Kaneki, so I wanted his eyes smaller. That's why I went with Bettina, instead of my initial choice of Alan, but I guess I made the wrong choice, as Alan's eyes appear to be much smaller, considering the eyes my Bettina is wearing are his and the iris are half the size of the default Bettina ones. Live and learn, I guess. I do love all the MYou sculpts, however, so I don't mind. I did always wondered if I got sent the wrong sculpt, but none of the Myou tinies, or at least the earlier four, have giant eyes. I wonder if the molds got warped by the time I got mine, and that's why I got a head with much larger eyes? I guess I'll never know. Although, I did need to mod his eyes smaller in the end. Lol! DX

The last photo was taken before I sealed the work, the shininess is due to the acrylic mediums I use; it makes layering multiple extra thin coats of paint, shine bright like the rays of the sun! Kind of like I rubbed oil all over his face! Lol! (:

[kathrins-sketchbook]

Oh, brightest sun (TRSB 2023)

A hommage to Gustav Klimt's The Kiss. Acrylic paint on canvas, with gold acrylic colour, 45x45cm. This scene had fascinated me ever since I read about it in the Nature of Middle-earth, and even more so when I became obsessed with Mîm as a character. While the ship of Mîmrod was born in a discord server I am in as a joke, that joke led to me originally drafting the sketch for this painting.

@goschatewabn has taken up this prompt- in a pinchhit no less - and has written, a beautiful, beautiful, fic that also absolutely tears my heart out. Find more info & the link to the fic below!

The elf shone more brilliantly than the purest gems they had unearthed, and his kind face crowned with a wreath of white lilac was like the first rays of dawn after a long night.

The gentle sun had risen in the east, and had brought spring into Nargothrond.

5180 Words

Rating: T Archive warnings: None Characters: Mîm, Finrod Felagund, the petty dwarves, various inhabitants of Nargothrond, dwarves of Nogrod https://archiveofourown.org/works/49927210/chapters/126046690

@tolkienrsb

[irisxstardust]

can't stop thinking about painter!reader + abby being besties the💝 'nd one day reader begs abby to be her model for a painting session...

as a painter... yeah. this has floated through my brain a few times. here's what i managed to write during class😽

(modern!) painter!reader x abby anderson

you'd been an artist for almost as long as you could remember.

it started with your family bringing you crayons and finger paints as a toddler. you owned almost every color imaginable and you used the crayons until they were nubs and emptied the little paint cups with plastic spoons. you'd left your mark on every available surface: slips of paper your parents no longer needed; blank envelopes from bills that your parents left on the counter; the wall in the playroom next to your mini easel; the white rug your mom kept in the living room.

when you moved on to writing with pencils in kindergarten you started drawing with pencils in the empty spaces of coloring books. when you moved on into middle school you participated in every available posted contest, you were a top student in your art class, you drew little scenic images in the margins of all your notebooks. your friends found it charming at first, but every time they saw you doodling on your homework they grew a little annoyed with the obsession.

it only truly got worse when your art teacher introduced you to gouache paint.

gouache was your perfect match - it was suddenly a dream for you to pull out your paint brushes and paper towels. gouache was the perfect blend of your favorite traits of watercolor paint and acrylic paint. you liked the opaqueness and vibrance of acrylics but the permanence of the plastic-like paint intimidated you. you liked how easy it was to manipulate watercolor and the dreamy affect the paint had when applied just right, but you oftentimes added too much water and the colors ran together and left a dirty brown stain across the paper.

gouache was the perfect mix of both. it was pigmented enough that your paintings were bright and full of life, but was able to easily blend with the other colors and create a cloudy affect. the paint was hard enough that it didn't run together and it was easy to fix a mistake even after the paint dried due to its watercolor-like qualities.

from the moment you found the paint you were obsessed and made it your main medium. you kept all of your paintings in a small watercolor sketchbook that you kept on your nightstand alongside a small set of gouache paint.

years later, when you met abby you knew you wanted to paint her - you just didn't know how to ask. the thought would come to you early in the morning, when there was still dewy moisture on the grass outside and the breeze smelled like chilly flowers. you would always wake before abby and every morning you shared you would spend that alone time observing every little detail of her face; almost as if you were trying to commit it to memory.

today was a day like every other. you woke before abby and you took as much time as you could just watching her. your window was open which let the suns morning rays inside, the golden beams dancing along her face.

you were facing each other, abby on her left side and you on your right. both of your heads resting on the same pillow.

you took your time, eyes scanning abby as if you'd never seen her before; noting the curve in the bridge of her nose, the honey colored freckles that dotted her cheeks, her eyelashes curling up lightly.

you wanted to take a picture. to freeze time and make it last forever. abby didn't usually give you time to dote on her, mostly saving all the compliments and praise for you - her pretty girl.

the thought of abby rolling her eyes at you reminding you of why you hadn't asked to if you could paint her yet. you were afraid that she'd tell you no.

you purse your lips at the thought, letting your teeth sink into the bottom one as your eyes move along her face slowly.

abby moves shortly after, her shoulder dropping back as she flops onto her back. she groans and her eyes slowly open.

"morning, rapunzel," you say. you move your hand, dragging it up from her elbow to her shoulder, letting it relax against the muscle.

she snorts, "morning, princess." her voice is heavy and raspy, still warming up from ten hours of rest.

"how was your sleep?" you ask, fingers nimbly sliding across her shoulder, briefly poking at her neck and then sliding your hand back down to rest on her shoulder again.

"pretty good," she hums, moving back onto her side to face you. "how about you?"

"pretty good," you repeat, eyes still scanning her face.

a few beats pass before she speaks again, "what's on your mind?"

you shake your head, eyes finally meeting hers, "nothing."

this time she doesn't miss a beat. "it's something."

"it's nothing, abigail."

she scoffs at the use of her full name and rolls her eyes, "it's definitely something if you feel the need to use my full name. c'mon, what's up?"

"well..." you trail off, eyes leaving hers and darting around the room. "i was just wondering..."

you let your words hang in the air for a minute, wondering if you really wanted to ask her and face the embarrassment of her telling you no.

"if?" she prompts, her hand making a "speed up" gesture and encouraging you to continue. the softness of her voice makes you look back up at her and spit it out.

"if i could paint you."

the room goes quiet and all you can hear is the birds outside your window, singing happily, and the faint thrum of your heartbeat in your ears.

"can i paint you?"

it takes her a second to process the request, and when she does her eyes go a little wide and her cheeks begin to flush with a light pink.

"i..." she pauses, and then begins to chuckle. "honestly? thought you'd never ask."

"does that mean yes?"

"of course you can paint me, princess."

so you ready your paint, throwing everything hastily onto your bed.

"stay there."

"on the bed?"

"yes!" you exclaim, beginning to open your gouache palette and pulling some paint brushes from your nightstand. "i want to paint you just like this."

[futuristicbasementbeliever]

On a wet summer afternoon,

the patchy fields of the country back roads are grassed and lushes Fall leaves patterned the area of the maple forest as, the trees decorate the floors with gradient leaves of colors, shapes and sizes.

I took to the ground to find my everlasting moments of childhood emerging from within the pattern.

Some pattens structure arcades porting me to golden moments filled with orchids of rich and plush ruby apples,

Others leave me with heavy long boulder that weighs my heart and soul down to the bottom of the ocean.

But supposedly,

Life was perfect then and food tasted like food.

Then Lying on the grass I stare into the sky and a moisture of precipitated clouds begin to wade my memories like a tide of acrylic paint spilling onto a canvas and exposing my mottled heart. Beating my irregular emotions of an unrequited love, unearthly colors ink my veins and fill my arteries with fire of fury. My eyes begin to burn with hate as the pain begins to processes. Like a factory taking in what lives and churning it into something malevolent something hard grows within. A different process of letting go will have to be considered in order to be soft again.

The heavy rays of the sun blades my earthly body, and a memory of her appears.

Muscles relaxed, she undresses herself in front of me with a gentle smile,

and a necklace hanging loose around her neck holds a statue dressed in armory;

and pointing north to a distant star in the sky I follow.

Awakening from a deep sleep, in awe the moment is bewildered and

looking deep into the confusion constellation,

So Grand,

So Heavenly,

I discovered that we are we.

-futuristicbasementbeliever

[symbolicmyths]

Hello!!!💜

Recently dressed up my phone, with only a fraction of the many artists I adore and listen to!

All the stickers made by yours truly except for the temples, which came with my cd. Levellers, Flo, Horrors and Depeche are all acrylic paint and paint marker on sketch paper✨

Tears is watercolour on sketch paper with paint marker and the sun was recycled out of a very old book on astrology I got from a junk shop 💜🌞

Image description - A clear plastic phone case filled with colourful stickers. From top right, a bright red square with Levellers written in black messy text. Below, a single stemmed red rose with white highlights from the Depeche Mode Violator album cover. Below, a bright yellow strip with Temples Volcano in blue text. Below it, a sap green diamond shaped with a black capital H in the center. To the left, a light blue background surrounded by lilac, baby pink and yellow flowers, a yellow and gray canary and in the center the words Florence + The Machine in black text. Above it, a golden sun with bright yellow rays, on a light watercoloured background and in bold black text is TFF. - End ID

[haunted-rose]

Rays of Sunlight Peeking Through the Thick Fog.

Hello there! This is my first time posting a fic on Tumblr, so please forgive me if I mess up any formatting. This is a fluffy SKK as parents one-shot. The premise is Dazai allowing his adopted daughter to draw on his bandages, after he finds her dissociating after a rough day. So please be mindful of that. This piece is also dedicated to the amazing @stinkyme who gave me the last bit of courage I needed to post this. Stinky is the absolute best, and there aren’t enough words to truly convey how wonderful she is!

Also in true BSD fashion, SKK’s daughter Halina gets her name from halina poświatowska, one of the most important writers in modern Polish lit. Also one of the meanings of Halina is sun-ray, which you will get as the fic progresses. I will also be posting this on my ao3! With all of that said, let’s get to the meat!

Walking through the door of his apartment, the ambiance felt off. Not in a way that would set off the alarm bells in his head from having survived this long, but something wasn’t right. Placing his shoes in the genkan, slipping off his sandy brown trench coat, and allowing the door to softly click shut behind him; Dazai was left alone with his thoughts. 

“Tadaima,” Dazai calmly calls out; with only his echo greeting him back. He patiently  waited for the soft bell-like voice to reply to him with an okaeri, but the response never came. He knew he wasn’t alone in the apartment, as his dress shoes had been placed next to blue canvas hightops with doodles drawn in pen. A text earlier had told him that she had gotten home safely, and that she had no plans to head out. Another text had alerted him that his Slug wouldn’t get home until early morning; something about needing to help Ane-san, and not to wait for him for dinner. 

Walking further into his home, he noticed traces indicating his Sunshine’s presence. Her shoes neatly placed in the genkan, her favorite slippers missing from its resting spot, and her bubblegum pink school bag leaning against the wall. 

Yet, for all that was there to show her presence, the apartment felt empty of it. Soft footsteps couldn’t be heard dancing along to cheesy American pop songs. No spontaneous melodic laughter was lingering throughout. The bitter smell of her preferred brand of Earl Grey wasn’t wafting, filling their home like something akin to perfume. 

Before panic could truly set in about the paradox in front of him; the mystery solved itself as he made his way into the kitchen. Sitting at their small table was his Sunshine; however, instead of being filled with relief at seeing her, worry washed over Dazai. Approaching his sweet girl, Dazai purposely made his steps loud, so he wouldn’t scare her. Yet, his loud steps caused no reaction from her; all he was met with continued silence. 

His Sunshine was now an eclipse. Or perhaps a black hole, a cruel entity that had drained away all of her radiance. 

The site before him filled him with sorrow, as he knelt beside her. Clumps of blonde curls surrounded her face like a curtain, looking as if they had been sharply pulled from her still existing pony-tail. Resting his hand against her cheek, he was met with the sensation of dried tears. Her vivid hazel eyes usually filled with so much warmth were glazed over; a fogginess indicating his Sunshine was dissociating. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He stood quickly moving to get to the freezer, “it’s going to be alright Sunshine.” Dazai wasn’t sure if the affirmations were for him or his sweet girl. 

They were for him, as she wouldn’t be able to register his voice with how deep she appeared to be dissociating. 

Kneeling in front of her again, Dazai muttered a quick apology. Gently grasping her left wrist, he pried open her hand placing a few ice cubes in it. His bandaged fist swallowed her dainty hand covered in streaks of acrylic paint. The reaction was immediate, and he felt horrid for keeping the frigid ice trapped in her hand. He remained calm and unmoving, even as she tried to jerk away. Doing anything to escape the cold grounding her back into reality. Water began to pool in her palm, dripping in between the silvers of their fingers as the heavy fog began to slowly dissipate from her eyes. 

Minutes felt like hours, but slowly awareness began to shine in her eyes. 

“There’s my sweet Sunshine,” Dazai practically cooed as he began to rub smoothing circles on her right cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay. You’re safe sweetie. It’s okay.” 

“Tata? What’s going on?” Her voice hoarse further enunciating her masovian dialect. Vivid hazel eyes trail down to observe the scene in front of her. “I floated away, didn’t I?” She mumbled out, voice softening with each word. 

Dazai released his grip on her hand, drying off the water on his pant leg. “You were dissociating, but there is nothing wrong with it. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” She refused to meet his gaze, so Dazai turned her head to face him. 

“Halina, there is nothing wrong with you. I’m your Tata, it’s my job to take care of you. You, my brilliant Sunshine, are not and will never be a burden.” The firm but loving words were all that were needed to break open the floodgates. His Sunshine collapsed into arms, with sobs ripping out of her throat. All Dazai could do was hold her close, rubbing circles on her back, and mumbling affirmations of love and care. Her sobs wrecked through her small form, breaking Dazai’s heart as he was helpless to assuage her sorrows. 

The only thing he could do was hold her close. A naive part of him hoping that he could shield her away from the demons lingering in her mind; and the monsters awaiting her everytime she stepped out the front door. Dazai knew for all of his predictions and precautions, that he couldn’t always be there to protect her. However, he could be there to take care of his sweet girl in the aftermath; giving her sanctuary to be vulnerable.  

Eventually the sobs quieted and the tears ran out. Halina lifted her head meeting Dazai’s gaze. Her eyes were an irradiated red from the crying, but her light was slowly returning; bathing them both in the warm rays. 

“It’s okay sweetie,” Dazai softly murmured, knowing Halina was most likely overstimulated. “What happened? Did you have a bad day?”

“No, I had a great day actually. I don’t know what happened. I felt fine…” her voice trailed off.

“Did everything just hit you at once?” Dazai said, finishing what she couldn’t. 

“I think so,” she replied with a teary tone. She further leaned into her Tata’s embrace. 

Feeling safe within his arms, basking in his loving touch, and listening to his steady heartbeat to keep her grounded in reality. With her Tata, Halina didn’t have to be strong. She could allow herself to relax and let her walls down. She could simply exist without having to wear a mask. She didn’t have to worry about how anything she said or did could be used against her. She was safe, and had the freedom to just be herself.  

“Come on sweet girl, let’s go sit somewhere more comfortable.” Dazai said lightly, with his knees popping, and a firm grip never leaving Halina’s hand. He knew his Sunshine needed to have a physical reminder that he was here, that he wouldn’t abandon her.

 He led them both to the living room, and gently placed his Sunshine on their bright orange couch; it was a nauseating neon shade, with matching fuzzy vomit green colored throw pillows. It was something he had bought to annoy his Chibi; the thing was an eye sore and migraine inducing. However, it was here to stay as Halina sincerely loved it, and thought it was beautiful; only their Sunshine could find beauty in something so revolting. So, the second youngest executive of the Port Mafia, half of soukoku, Nakahara Chuuya was stuck with the ugly thing polluting his living room. As he was unable to deny something that truly brought his Daughter joy. 

Dazai was broken out of his thoughts, as he gently wrapped Halina’s favorite blanket around her. Though he made sure her arms were free, as he knew she hated being trapped when she felt fragile. “I’ll be right back Darling. Tata just needs to grab a few things, and then I’m all yours.” He waited until Halina nodded, as he knew the constant touch was one of the few things keeping her from dissociating again. 

Dazai returned a few moments later with a box of fabric markers and sharpies. He placed the box on the coffee table, and turned on the television; putting on Mama Mia. He and Chuuya couldn’t stand the movie, but their Sunshine absolutely adored it, and that was enough for them. He sat down next to her, and gently placed his bandage arm in her lap. He handed her a random marker, “do you mind Darling?” 

Her reaction was instantaneous, a huge grin broke out on her face, and Dazai was blinded by her contagious mirth. “Is there anything you want in particular?” His Sunshine was practically vibrating in excited anticipation.

“Surprise me. Anything you draw will be incredible.” Dazai barely finished his sentence, before Halina began to draw on his bandages; Mama Mia forgotten as the blank canvas in front of her was demanding her full attention. 

When Chuuya finally made it back to the apartment he shared with his Daughter and Mackerel, it was four in the morning, and he knew it was pointless trying to be quiet. His Mackerel would wake up immediately when someone entered their home, even if it was just Chuuya; and his sweetheart could sleep through an earthquake. 

He was led to the living room by the noise coming from the T.V, and the site he saw filled his heart with warmth; not that he’d be caught alive admitting that to his Mackerel. Halina was asleep with her head resting on Dazai’s chest, with his arms wrapped around her waist. 

“Oi, I know you’re awake stupid Dazai.” The bastard refused to open his eyes, even as he replied. “Mah, my Hatrack is so mean. Here I am just trying to rest, and I’m so rudely awoken.” 

“I’m rude, am I?” Chuuya replied with a soft kiss to Dazai’s cheek. “The rudest.” Dazai agreed, bringing their lips together. Chuuya’s eyes trailed down to Dazai’s right arm, the entire thing was covered in rose drawings. He was mesmerized by the vibrant colors and graphic lines, sharply contrasting Mackerel’s sterile white background. 

He slowly put the pieces together as he finally noticed what movie was playing on the television. “Rough day?” Chuuya’s voice was steeped in worry. 

“Everything just hit her at once. I came home to find her dissociating in the kitchen. I think she was more worried about us viewing her as a burden.” How Dazai kept the rage out of his voice, Chuuya would never know. “You can’t kill the dead Chibi.” Stupid Dazai said whilst carding his fingers through Halina’s thick curls. 

“I know that, Mackerel. Doesn't mean the fantasy isn’t appealing.” Chuuya replied as he sat down, and began to rub Halina’s back. 

“The best thing we can do is to take care of her when she breaks. We’ll remain a constant presence, so she knows we won’t ever abandon her.” 

“When did you get so wise, Bastard?”

“I’ve always been smart, it’s not my fault your slug brain can’t comprehend that. 

“If you weren’t holding our Daughter, I’d kill you right here and now.”

“Oooo, I’m so scared.” Dazai teased as he leaned over for another kiss. Once they had parted, Halina began to stir. “What’s going on? Is it time for school?” Her words were mumbled out in a mixture of Polish and Japanese. She turned to face Chuuya, “Oh, welcome home Papa.” Even half asleep her voice was filled with warmth. “Hi, sweetheart,” Chuuya cooed as he gently patted her head. “Go back to sleep Angel.” 

“Okay. G’night Tata. G’night Papa.” Halina murmured as she nestled her head in the crook of Chuuya’s neck and shoulder. 

“Goodnight Angel.” Chuuya murmured, as he held Halina tight and placed a soft kiss on her head. 

“Sweet dreams Sunshine. Your Papa and I will protect you from nightmares.” Dazai said, adjusting the blanket over the three of them. 

Fin. 

[cinqminuteavectoi]

When I tell people, I’m an art student, some of them start to see my life in colours. I have always thought, that was weird, since my days are as gray as theirs - within university walls. As I picked up my folio suitcase one day and walked in my studio, I saw my linen apron hanging by the side of the door. It was 4 in the afternoon and there was a glowing ray of sun lining right at the middle of its white fabric. I took a few baby steps towards the rack and noticed my white apron was no longer white - it was smudged all over with my paint. Old paint, new paint, paints that are cracking a little, streaks of different colours dripping down the pockets. I thought to myself, this must be what people meant? My life, in acrylic colours, literally? Or colours, what are they really? 

When we were little, they were wax crayons. When we were a little older, they were white tutus, pink ribbons, green football fields, red lockers. The colours in our lives aren’t just streaks and strikes of every millimetre in the spectrum, but we find them in our hearts and build a palette for ourselves. People become shades of colours, colours become shades of feelings. That elementary teacher we all loved dearly, is the red apple, sitting juicy on a wooden desk. That girl we all once admired with her hair flowing every time she walks, glides in pink through the school hallway. That feeling which throbs our heart when we meet that person’s eyes in a crowded room, overflows our chest with a wave of red, pixelated, flying popping hearts. Colours are the red shade of smudgy lipstick on the first date with our first boyfriend, Colours are the honey yellowed sunlights drenching our front yard. Colours are the occasional bouquet sitting by our window in the morning. Our lives are canvases of vibrant pigments, with every stage tinted in shades of everything dear and everything less. Ultimately, the meaning of colour is messy. On one level, there seems to be some universal experience of the electromagnetic spectrum on living things, where short and long waves cause different effects to our being on the most basic level. But on another it is highly personal. Colour doesn’t exist within a thing; it is the experience an outside agent has of the thing.

We live by the rhythm and tempo of colour changes indicating the passage of time and the cycle of the seasons. We wake up every morning to the deep blue sky before dawn gives way to a paler blue light that permeates mornings, followed by the more yellow hue of the afternoon and then the red light of the evening when the sun sets. These changes can be so gradual and steady that they are barely noticeable, but nonetheless they colour our awareness of the passing day. The air we breathe, the ground under our feet, the Sun, the Moon and the stars—all are vibrating their own particular colour essence that both sets them apart and unites them with us as one, in the essence of life itself. Even seasons highlight very different colours, with the fresh, brand new greens of spring darkening as summer progresses, then comes an inferno of orange, yellow and gold as autumn settles in only a few months later. Winter launches into an austere note, with few remaining vibrant colours, and sometimes a smattering of snow that eradicates the lingering green, reducing the outlook to a simple contrast between darkness and light. Colours give every object, be it animate or inanimate, an identity of its own, helping it to be distinguished from the rest. If nature is forced to re-envelope itself in black and white, how would one differentiate between the rising sun that radiates hope from the setting sun that calls for rest? How would a lady understand the feelings hidden in the depths of a young lad who had gifted her a rose in black and white? Should young ones then be forced to memorise the shades of black and the feelings they represent, a second time? 

Colours make the world, and colours make our lives. Amaranth pink is the colour of the five cent bubblegum you were always caught chewing in middle school. Thistle purple is the colour that sank beneath your skin when your bruises surfaced to tell stories of the experiences you adventured through as a young and fearless child. Cerise is the colour your heart beats when you look at someone in the middle of a conversation and truly internalise just how deeply you care for them. Tyrian is the colour of intimate anticipation, the hue that hangs in the air on first dates, the shade that lingers between desire and longing. Catalina blue is the colour that calmly bleeds into the night sky minutes before the twilight breaks. Alabaster ivory is the colour of the sugar your father would scoop into his bitter coffee right before he would pick you up in his arms to kiss you goodbye in the morning. Sable beige is the colour of the sand you pressed your feet into the first day you saw the Ocean. Maize yellow is the colour that floods into your apartment at 7am, blanketing every corner of your room in a new beginning. Those. Those are my colours. The colours that made my life. What are yours?

[flinttcanwriteipromise]

The Soldier of Love, The Soldier of Life

A Poem for Bianca

Summary: Bianca, my original character, grew up in Arlington VA with a general as her father. This is about her double sided upbringing in a loving household and growing up alongside the new recruits at the local military base.

A/N: I might include more about my newsies original characters, but if you want to see art of them of something of the sort go to @flinttflakes

———————————————————————————————

I grew up around soldiers.

Unbreakable resolves but breakable behaviors.

I watched boys grow into men.

I watched men grow childish.

Their gazes hardened, their stares to glares.

Their personalities became building blocks broken down over and over again, molded into shields to protect us from the ugly and damned.

I grew up around love.

With an unbreakable beauty but breakable heart.

I watched myself live and lose.

I watched the door open to striped and star embroidered triangles, folded neatly just well enough to hold a soul in there.

My gaze would soften staring at you like you were beauty itself, I ripped pieces of myself to fit into the chips and cracks they left in you, filling the shield they made you into and abandoned you as because someone made you think you were the damned and ugly.

I never grew childish.. but I never grew into a man.

I never toughened up enough to believe there was a target on my back but I was aware enough to watch it be painted with red acrylic in the mirror.

I never hardened my shell enough to keep everyone out because I was raised by the floodgates and learned to let everyone in.

I became the lighthouse.

You may have been so weary and old when you were younger, sailing the seas with hopes you may see me one day because I told you where the harbor was.

I grew up with a sign strapped to my chest that said “Free hugs.. take as many as you need.” because not many people did.

You will be kissed by my lips until you remember what it feels to have the sun kiss your face with the first rays of spring shining through winter’s departing winds.

I’m not a soldier for the free and the brave.

I’m a soldier for the trapped and the timid.

My weapons aren’t hardened with the blood of the lost or sharpened with the barks of orders from one man to another.

My weapons are softened with words of wisdom, dulled by the power of the life I led and the guidance I received walking it’s path.

My fingertips switch from being warm to the touch to thaw your cold skin to being cool enough to calm your anger.

I am the soldier of life, I am the soldier of love.

Molded by the rough and tumble, molded by the smooth and aspire.

Grown around soldiers and grown around love.

[nnothingnesss]

The Dark (Short Story)

Mani and Glam survive in a dystopian world where nobody know’s what happens in the dark.

I watched her paint. It made me feel wide awake in the middle of a long dream. It was nice. It's the first time I'd ever seen someone make real art before. I had read of painting from books about Salvador Dali but I'd never imagined I'd see it in person. I feel like a witness to some ancient skill from a dead civilization I'll have to testify against. She continues streaking the canvas with black acrylics banishing white from the piece forever. My imagination trails to a bustling museum full of people who came peacefully to revere someone like her.

Had anyone else seen her, she probably would've been taken to the local scavengers and never seen again. Watching her unleash a mad passion on that canvas makes me think she really doesn't care, that she'd leave a hole in between any pair of eyes that tried. And after she'd go right back to painting.

"You mean to tell me you can just shoot a handgun all day and come back here and make such delicate artwork? Like it's nothing?" I asked her

"Pretty much," she tells me.

"Here I was thinking I was crazy. I can't stop shaking,"

"You need to get used to it,"

"Not something I want to get used to."

I look back down at my hands and I've finally managed to calm down a little. Flashes of what happened earlier, the dark man, the forest, the sunsetting sky.

"Are you sure we're safe?" I begin to worry again.

"I promise. We've been here for almost six hours and nothing has happened right?"

"So you mean we can just stay here forever and we'll be fine?"

"Yeah, if you want to leave our stuff at the school and never see the others again, sure"

Worry. I'm a huge worrier. I worry constantly. I really can't stop it.

"I don't want to leave," I say. She stops to set down her brush. Her painting is more than halfway finished. Four more hours until sunrise.

"We talked about this, we'll leave once the sun starts coming up so we can see that thing if it tries to follow us, then we'll run back into the high school and grab the rest of our stuff and we'll head right back to the city."

"I know, god please, I'm just scared"

"If you ever freeze up like you did in that forest again and I'm not there, you'll die."

"I know,"

"If you do that in the school then I'll have to be the one to put you down. And I swear to god, Mani, if I have to be the one to put you down I will fucking kill you. This isn't your first rodeo, so don't go acting like a rookie."

"You're right. Sorry."

"It's okay. I know, that thing, it almost got to you. You don't have to talk about it with me just so you know."

"No it's fine, it's just..." a shiver travels down my spine “I don’t want to think about what that thing would do to us.”

Glam doesn't say anything, instead she picks her brush up and dips it in paint.

"I can't shake it.”

3 Hours Later

I can see the first orange ray peaking through the blinds. It lights up the dark and cold room, overcast with shadows and covered furniture. I can begin making out the features of Glam’s face as she sleeps on the hard floor. She found me after I ran away from..well..we can talk about that later.

I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with running. Our jobs were pretty much that at any given moment. Any one you met was running from something. Whether it be from the Dark or their past, it wasn’t hard to tell. We all have seen it, with our own eyes. I’m just happy all the innocent people who died in the first few nights never had to.

“Hey, Glam, the sun is up,”

Glam darts awake, startled and then relaxes. Reflex.

“God, I’m tired of these awful nightmares,”

“I know. Come on, let’s go,”

“Just give me a minute will you?”

We stand up from the corner of the room. We managed to run into this estate last minute, right before the sun began going down. I look down the room to find a way carefully through tarp covered furniture. Whoever lived here must’ve been incredibly rich. They must’ve also thought they’d be coming back. God were they wrong.

“I swear the God’s hate us,” I sigh.

I place a couple of rationed food on the table while Glam took her few minutes. A couple cans of peaches, homemade beef jerky, and water. That’s it. I open the yellow can of peaches with a small combat knife. I got it off a dead soldier on the way into the forest. This was my first time ever using it.

After I pour the peaches into a partially cleaned bowl, I begin to pick out debris and any occasional insect that might’ve found it’s way into the can. One of them had a bullet hole on the side of it. The kitchen was filled with them.

I’m not sure why life turned out like this. Why the Dark had to become violent. All I know is now, any humans left out there will kill you quicker than any Dark could if they know you’ve been outside all night. Glam would do it. And so would I.

“Mani,”

Last night, I was this fucking close. I was so close to getting caught by the Dark. The sky was mostly purple and I never ever look behind me when I’m running. But nobody know’s what the fuck happens in the dark.

“Mani,”

I looked behind me, to the opposite side of the sun, the darkness in all of the trees, there was no light. The thing had fucking horns for god’s sake, and it was moving towards me so fast I could see it shaking the trees. I could feel it was hungry. If any of them get close to you I am so sorry you have to die that painful and miserable death.

“Alright, Mani your just sitting there with your damn hand in the peach bowl, wake up”

Glam pulls my hand out of the bowl.

“Oh you’re up, feeling better?” she asks me.

“I’m feeling ready. Let’s just get this shit over with.”

“Yeah. I’m with you there,”

The school wasn’t far just a 20 minute walk. In broad daylight we were completely safe from those hideous creatures. Unfortunately it makes other survivors the little tree mongers.

I’ve ran into people who kidnap women and do the most terrible things. Their smiles leave the most insidious feeling behind in their words and conversation.

And more often then not, these interactions were unavoidable. If it weren’t for squatters and cargo movers keeping our sensitive karma in check, I wouldn’t be making money and they wouldn’t be jumping like kids.

We don’t need to get too explicit. Sometimes discernment is key. Intuit into everyone around us and if you smell smoke? Run. In these terrible times it was all about survival. Not who’s got cooler stories in the dark.

“You got everything?” Glam asks.

“Yeah, come on.” I throw my bag over my back and walk behind Glam through the front door.

[noneedtopaint25]

Long-Life Wall Coating

1. What Are Long-Life Wall Coatings?

Compared to ordinary paints or wall coverings, long-life wall coatings are specialty external treatments made to preserve and improve surfaces for an extended amount of time. They are composed of cutting-edge materials that lessen fading brought on by UV exposure, withstand weather damage, and guard against mold and mildew. Although these coatings are usually applied to the outside of buildings, they can also be used indoors where lifespan and durability are important considerations.

Unlike conventional paints, long-life wall coatings don’t require regular repainting. They can last anywhere from 10 to 25 years, depending on the product and environmental conditions. Some manufacturers even offer warranties for their products, which is a testament to their durability.

2. Benefits of Long-Life Wall Coatings

Long-life wall coatings provide several benefits that make them a superior choice for property protection. Here are some of the main advantages:

Durability: These coatings are designed to withstand extreme weather conditions, from intense sun to heavy rain, snow, and even salt exposure in coastal areas.

Low Maintenance: With their self-cleaning properties, long-life wall coatings resist dirt, mold, and algae, reducing the need for frequent washing.

UV Resistance: UV rays can cause paint to fade over time. Long-life coatings are formulated with UV-resistant components that prevent color loss and maintain vibrant colors for years.

Thermal Efficiency: Many long-life coatings provide a reflective surface that can reduce heat absorption, helping maintain indoor temperatures and potentially lowering energy costs.

Waterproofing: The breathable waterproof barrier in these coatings prevents water penetration while allowing trapped moisture to escape, reducing the risk of cracking and peeling.

3. Types of Long-Life Wall Coatings

There are various types of long-life wall coatings to suit different needs and surfaces:

a. Acrylic Coatings

Acrylic coatings are versatile and widely used due to their excellent weather resistance. They can be applied on various surfaces, including concrete, masonry, and wood. These coatings offer high durability, color retention, and UV resistance, making them a popular choice for external wall protection.

b. Silicone-Based Coatings

Silicone-based coatings are known for their superior waterproofing abilities. They create a hydrophobic layer that repels water while remaining breathable. This quality makes them ideal for areas with high humidity or frequent rain, as they help prevent moisture buildup that can lead to mold and mildew.

c. Elastomeric Coatings

Because of their extreme flexibility, elastomeric coatings can expand and contract in tandem with the surface underneath. Because of their suppleness, they are perfect for avoiding cracks in places where temperature swings are common. They can fill in minor fractures and stop them from getting worse, which makes them ideal for concrete surfaces.d. Ceramic-Based Coatings

Ceramic-based coatings contain ceramic particles that provide excellent insulation properties. They reflect heat and sunlight, which can be beneficial in warmer climates. These coatings are often used for their energy-saving potential, as they can help keep indoor spaces cooler.

4. Choosing the Right Long-Life Wall Coating

When selecting a long-life wall coating, consider the following factors:

Climate: If you live in a region with high rainfall, a silicone or elastomeric coating with waterproofing capabilities may be most suitable.

Surface Type: Different wall coatings adhere better to certain surfaces. Acrylic coatings work well on various surfaces, while elastomeric coatings are ideal for concrete.

Color Retention: For areas exposed to intense sunlight, choose coatings with high UV resistance for long-lasting color.

Budget: Long-life coatings can vary in price, so select a product that balances cost with durability.

5. Application Tips for Long-Life Wall Coatings

Applying long-life wall coatings correctly is crucial to achieving their maximum benefits. Here are some essential tips for a successful application:

a. Surface Preparation

Proper surface preparation is key. Clean the surface thoroughly to remove dirt, grease, and any existing peeling paint. For masonry and concrete, consider pressure washing to eliminate stubborn residues.

b. Priming

Applying a primer before the wall coating can improve adhesion, especially on porous surfaces. Primers also help to seal the surface and reduce the absorption of the coating, leading to better coverage.

c. Use the Right Tools

Most wall coatings can be applied with brushes, rollers, or sprayers. Use high-quality tools for even application. Sprayers are ideal for larger surfaces, while brushes and rollers can provide more control in smaller areas.

d. Apply Multiple Coats

For optimal protection, apply at least two coats of the coating. Allow adequate drying time between coats as recommended by the manufacturer. This ensures an even and durable finish.

e. Weather Considerations

Avoid applying the coating during extreme weather conditions, such as very hot or cold temperatures or high humidity. Optimal application temperatures are typically between 50–85°F (10–30°C).

f. Hire Professionals for Large Projects

If you’re coating an entire building or complex, consider hiring professional contractors. They have the experience and equipment to ensure a high-quality application that maximizes the coating’s longevity.

6. Maintenance Tips for Long-Life Wall Coatings

Although long-life wall coatings are low-maintenance, a few simple steps can help extend their lifespan even further:

Regular Cleaning: Periodically wash the coated surface to remove dirt and grime. Use a mild detergent and avoid abrasive cleaners that could damage the coating.

Inspect for Damage: After severe weather, inspect the surface for any signs of damage. Prompt repairs can prevent issues from escalating.

Avoid Harsh Chemicals: Strong chemicals can erode coatings over time, so use gentle, eco-friendly cleaning products if necessary.

7. Popular Brands of Long-Life Wall Coatings

Several reputable brands offer high-quality long-life wall coatings:

Dulux Weather shield: Known for its UV and weather resistance, ideal for areas with high sun exposure.

StoCoat: Offers a range of elastomeric and acrylic coatings suitable for various climates and surfaces.

Behr Premium Plus Ultra: Known for its excellent durability and easy application, suitable for both residential and commercial applications.

8. Cost Considerations

The cost of long-lasting wall coatings is usually more than that of ordinary paints, making them an investment. However, over time, they frequently prove to be cost-effective due to their durability and decreased need for repainting. Generally speaking, depending on the type, brand, and thickness needed, premium coatings can cost anywhere from $2 to $8 per square foot.

Final Thoughts

For anyone wishing to improve the visual attractiveness of their building, reduce maintenance costs, and safeguard their property, long-life wall coatings are the perfect answer. These coatings have a number of advantages that make them an excellent investment, regardless of whether you’re working with residential or commercial real estate. Long-life coatings may preserve the fresh, vivid appearance of your walls for many years with proper preparation and upkeep.

Article Source :- https://medium.com/@danemax259/long-life-wall-coating-9833a86f4ee2