BBG sketch 003 // You're home early! (Patreon)

Hey guys! Here we are with yet another daily sketch :) This time of my character, Danielle <3 Long time no see of this chimera beauty! These sketches are something really fun for me, I've been getting back to my own projects lately and it's such a change of pace from my normal commission spree. I really enjoy this time to slow down a bit and focusing on my own stuff~

I am working on her physique currently, as I am unsure of what exactly to make of her. I amm certain that as a pastry loving librarian she would have just a touch of chub going on, enough to make her look soft, but not enough to make her look fat for sure. One day I will get my OCs refence sheets... one day :D But not today!

For Aksan, who's character is the one Dani is looking at <3 Who shall bbe introduced another time!

EDIT

What came as a lovely surprise is Aksan wrote a cute little short story to go along with this sketch! I'm sharing it below for all the people interested in it to read <3 Danielle is my character and Mort is Aksan's OC. Our lovely lil couple~

Thanks so much for this, Aksan <3 Love it!

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Happy Birthday, Tart!

The sweetness of the wine still tingled, lingering in Danielle’s mouth, its last bubbles fizzing down her throat as she purred happily to herself. Once more the apron came off its hook among the pots and pans above and her fingers combed through her hair to slip it around her neck, stroked through her fur to encircle her waist. A thought of Mort and she drew the ties a little tighter before knotting them, knowing the birthday stag would appreciate.

As she always did, the cat shook her head at having to remember which side of the fridge she was reaching into, but did so and took from it the neatly wrapped parcel. It was carried in her hands like a present, which later it would be; but for now it was nothing more than a block of sweet, crisp, pastry covered with waxed cloth. For a moment she considered the pattern, easily as fancy as any wrapping paper she’d’ve picked out; in fact it was no doubt inspired by them. Once more she purred to herself as the wrapping was cast aside with a bowl of cooling ganache. 

Her tongue clicked off of her front teeth in well-practised and ultimately meaningless frustration; the marble rolling pin Mort had got was placed at the front of the utensil holder again and she had to reach around for her trusted wooden one. With the familiar grain in her hand, rolling out the pastry was quick work. She watched carefully as it sprang back from the compression, knowing she had the time to rest it further. The thought of resting it further was dismissed in a moment however, as she heard the front door of the apartment open and close.

Over the hum of the preheating oven, she heard the usual clatter of Mort’s return, the mutterings that they would be making to themself as their boots and jacket were unceremoniously removed, but oh so carefully, set aside. Turning towards the hall she was already smiling when the stag tipped their head around the corner with an equally contented grin. Danielle wiggled her hips a little, dismissing their smile in favour of a soft gasp and a slow lip bite. Her mismatched eyes turned back to the pastry as she blushed. 

“Oh, what a treat to come home to,” Mort murmured in her ear as they arrived behind her and embraced her, “And she’s cooking.” 

Danielle mouthed these words along with her paramore, knowing all too well the soft excitement she inspired and the way this hug, and the gentle swaying of their hips was placing it. A dance she knew and enjoyed every step of.

“What’s the occasion?” Mort asked, the shamelessness of their grin as audible as the rolling of the cat’s eyes.

“It is a birthday, tart,” she said as her ears and cheek were snuffled at and her hips pinned to the counter. 

“Full of chocolate ganache. Oh . . . you really do know how to spoil me.”

“Speaking of you being spoiled, you’re going to have to do that thing you hate.”

“Share? Wait?”

Danielle’s head tipped around between the ideas nodding.

“Both?!”

“Well you’re home early, and the tart far too much for one.”

“Early?” Their chin rested between Danielle’s ears to think. “Work finished a bit early, but that all got eaten as just clothes shopping before training—Oh, I treated myself to a lovely pleated skirt.” 

“Ooo.” 

“From that little boutique with the orchids in the window, and the—” Nodding moved the stag's chin and had them chuckling as they returned to bothering their beloved’s ears and cheeks. “Surely though, training didn’t finish early, and I didn’t rush back from that . . .”

“Was Chloe not there?”

“Of course she was, she coxes the eight.” 

“Well . . .” She shrugged back into her partner. “I know you like her.”

“So you thought I’d put off coming home to you to celebrate my birthday just because Chloe is so lovely, and pretty, and companionable, and . . .”

“Willing.”

“Do you really think that—” Danielle was nodding, taking her turn with a shameless grin.

“I know who it is I choose to spend my life with.” 

“And that’s why you’re baking a tart . . .” From their place nuzzling her cheek Mort could feel her grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“I figured twenty minutes for the others to disperse, thirty of her feet not finding the ground and ten for actual showers for you both, maybe fifteen to get her feathers dry, so the tart—the chocolate tart—needs another hour.”

“I can be patient . . . and even make sensible decisions,” Mort muttered, “Don’t make that face.” 

“You can’t see my face.” 

“I can feel the doubt rolling off of it.”

“Is Chloe okay though, usually if you two don’t fool around at least you invite her over for—” Danielle’s head dropped down and she had to catch herself before she went face-first into the pastry, her feet pattering on the floor in an embarrassed little rage.

“Hi . . .” The little magpie said from the corner near the hall.

“Chloe, darling, lovely to see you,” Danielle said between deep deliberate breaths. A glance to see the bird’s averted gaze. It had taken her a while learning to read her, but the ruffled feathers betrayed as much as a blushing smile ever could. “Would you mind watching that our dear birthday tart doesn’t eat any of the ganache while I put on something more appropriate for company?”