#Acrylic painted on plastic foil

[jokeanddaggerdept]

`

[trinketstar]

How I made my own vintage Pomni!

Based on this tutorial, with my own modifications and sewing pattern!

Let's begin!

Here's a total list of the things I used here.

Shiny fabric: blue and red

Acrylic paint. Colors: White,red,blue,black

Gold ribbon

White sculpey clay

Tin foil

Mod podge (for sealing the paint)

Jingle bells

Dark brown yarn

Glue

And depending on how you want to handle crafting the body you can either follow the original tutorial and make one out of any fabric you'd like, filling it with plastic beans and stuffing,

Or you can do what I did and cheat a little! I actually used the body of a beanie baby to save time. You'll find tons of these guys at the thrift store, usually for about a dollar each. The one I used for Pomni looked like this.

All I did was carefully undo the stitching on the bear's head and set Pomni's clay head in the opening!

Now for the steps! The first thing I did was gather my materials and make a concept sketch.

Then since I already had a body for Pomni, I rolled a ball of tin foil slightly smaller than I wanted the head to be, and covered it in sculpey clay. Then I molded the face into a nice cute shape! Don't worry if the back of the head is lumpy, you won't see it under the hat and hair.

Make sure to add a neck that tapers outwards at the bottom so the head stays in the neck hole of the plush body!

After baking the clay, I painted the head white and sketched out the face lightly with pencil before painting on the details. I even added a little bit of glitter to her eyes! Then when I was satisfied with the face, I sealed the paint with mod podge. It added a nice shine to her face which adds to the porcelain look!

I'd bought a clown doll at a thrift store with a similar outfit to the one I wanted to make for Pomni, which I reverse engineered to make my own pattern! Here's In-progress Pomni wearing the other doll's outfit.

I cut out these patterns to use for the outfit.

After cutting out the pants they should look like this when put together and folded. Turn them inside out and sew them together at the middle, including the crotch. Leave the top and the pant legs open.

The sleeves should look like this cut out and folded. Make sure they're inside out just like the pants, and sew these at the sleeve openings at the top. Remember to leave the neck hole open!

Here's where we add the ribbon at the ends! Fold up the base of the pant legs and sleeves to hem the ends, and scrunch up the gold ribbon to sew around the borders while you're hemming them. It'll scrunch the ends a little bit, giving the outfit that poofy look.

Then turn it inside out!

I sewed the bells on and put the outfit on pomni! Then I simply cut another piece of ribbon and made a little ruffle for her neck. It's not sewed to the outfit just so it's easier to take on and off.

For Pomni's hair I got the yarn and combed it out with a fine tooth comb until the texture became softer, and then used a flat iron on it (VERY briefly. just for a second!!!!) to straighten it out. For more tips on this look up yarn doll hair tutorials on youtube! Then I just glued it to her lil head and styled it like so.

I don't have any progress pics for the hat but it was pretty simple. Just cut out the shapes and sew them up!

Then add the hem with a ribbon folded in half, and the bells!

TADAA! A baby pompom for you!

[dipperpines-kin]

The Sweet Dreams Bill Cipher Figure from The Book of Bill is complete!

Made with

Air Dry Clay

Toothpicks

Tin Foil

Acrylic Paint

Fine Tip Sharpie Pen (Tip Size 0.5)

Pink Eyeshadow

Tools used

Hands

Plastic Ruler (Measuring Ruler)

Toothpick

Paint Brush (a line brush)

Water (Too smooth it out)

Fabric Glue

Sandpaper (Grit 220)

Time it took to make? Can't remember, a few days at least. Want to make your own and need help? You can message me!

All previous WIP posts regarding this creation will now be deleted to keep my blog clean, so reblog this and like!

[kaenith]

Mixed Media Challenge

I've been very busy lately and not making as much art as I'd like to as a result ;_; I really want to do something fun and experimental with traditional media, so I've thought of a game — like a color palette challenge, but instead of listing color palettes I'm listing art materials (some more conventional than others).

So send me prompts with one of the following:

Character(s) from a fandom I am in (Four Swords / LoZ, Pokemon, Studio Ghibli movies, etc.)

OR a Flight Rising breed (I will draw one of my own dragons who is that breed)

OR two or more animals to make a combo creature out of

and two or more of the following:

Pencil

Ink pen

Colored pencil

Crayon

Watercolor

Acrylic paint

Sharpies

Craft paper

Aluminum foil

Yarn

Felt

Beads

Highlighter pen

Rainbow scratch-away sheets

Shrink plastic

Recycled materials

[giantpacific-octopress]

Fic: Murder Most Foul by @dxmichelle

Fandom: Yugioh! | For: Michelle, the author herself

Book #?? (i lost count) is for my beloved friend MICHELLE!! many moons ago we were on discord kicking around jokes and ideas for a very silly murder mystery fic where the characters play a murder mystery game. and now i have the distinct and special honor of giving her a hard copy of her very excellent and very funny hard work.

i wanted the book to have a fun mystery feel, like knives out, so i found some deeply apropos fonts: baskerville old fashioned (body text) and the sherloks (title text.) i bought some vintage border elements on etsy for like $3. this is the first time i chucked a text block entirely, because the endpapers were so ugly and my trim job on the margins was so bad that i needed to completely start over. ANYWAY.

one thing i knew i absolutely wanted to try for this cover was BLOOD SPLATTER!! so, when the text block was finished, i made and foiled the case, taped a sheet of plastic to the wall of my garage, taped the case to the plastic, and slung red acrylic paint at it. it's not AS splattery as i'd like, and the paint covered up the author name unintentionally (i am no jackson pollock) but there was SOME method to the madness. yes, i painted over a heinous foiling error. and what about it.

pizza is a key recurring motif, if you will, so the bookmark charm is this adorable little pizza. one day, michelle, we well enjoy a pizza together (no tomato sauce for you. all tomato sauce for me.) i think this is one of the nicest books i've made so far, and it is a joy to give it to one of the nicest people i know. <3

[cosmicanger]

faith****

Hush, 2024

Cardboard, foil duct tape, duct tape, house paint, wood, acrylic medium, hot glue, aluminum, aluminum foil, copper leaf, genuine silver leaf, nail polish, glitter, copper, DG Jamaican Kola Champagne Flavored Soda cap, ink on cotton, ink on paper, ArtForum art ad, miniature pots and pan, artificial tears, tap water, blessed water, magic, artificial pearls, glass beads, glass seed beads, plastic cowrie beads, plastic beads, butterfly pendant, rhinestones, found material, stickers, miniature watering can, silver bells, paint marker, metal paint, lambskin leather and wool thread

16.25 x 13.75 x 6.125 inches (41.3 x 24.9 x 15.6 cm)

[ziptie-bouquet]

Incomplete V1 figure (about 33% done?) creation process, it's a long post

Step 0 (studying):

I ordered yellow plastic for the wings which will arrive in 3 days.

V1 is basically a ball jointed doll, so I was very excited about making one of these!

(Look at those tasty joints, I love love love that about their character design)

I ended up not doing that when I realized that I would need rubber bands I don't have and that this looks too complicated for me. I haven't used polymer clay in years after all.

I did a couple of messy joint tests earlier today tho

I was very surprised that just passing a wire through 2 pieces worked and I'll keep it in mind for future uses! The 3 piece joint is a bit janky but with some tinkering it could work as a shoulder joint. (thanks to the detachable G1 monster high dolls I had as a kid for the idea, I tried to remember how they worked as well as I could)

I'm going with the exposed wire caveman joint style for this tho, it's especially sexy with my red aluminum. (Exposed veins)

Step 1 (wire skeleton):

So this is my first time doing this ever, and since I am stupid, I didn't really look up a guide for this.

This was especially hard to do because of her silly neck bend. I had to add that sort of wire triangle you can maybe see in the pic. It was necessary to pass that shoulder wire through.

Next time I'll definitely have one long section that goes "left arm-shoulders-right arm" (and same for the legs and hips) instead of 3 separate loosely attached parts, it'll be way easier and sturdier.

Next I added some padding with aluminum foil (I ran out of it fast tho since it was the end of my roll)

And yeah done!

Step 2 (the first layer):

This is where I'm at right now (it's curing in my oven).

I realized she was too big for my oven tray with this step, but I'm happy with this.

It's just fun to sculpt. I'm doing the front first and then I'll do the back in, hopefully, the most seamless way possible (but if I notice the legs don't look good, I'll mix it up). I'm sooo happy about the red aluminum wire.

I mostly want to do the black first because it's physically underneath the blue plating in the model anyway but also because that pigment is a bitch to get off my hands and I want to be done with it.

Using colored clay is cool because I want to avoid big paint jobs. I have never painted using acrylic paint before, so I'll be keeping it for highlights or small details.

[novistarplanet]

How the aot girlies wear their acrylic

A/n so like im a beginner nail tech and i thought this was fun to do🤭 i got the idea from @ohayopoko

Mikasa

- she will most definitely wear a nice classy ombre set I dont really see her stepping out of her comfort zone and doing any other colors

- she doesn’t like charms :( at MOST she would get like a Dior nail foil

- I dont really see her getting acrylics like that i feel like she would only get them on special occasions🤷🏽‍♀️

- i dont see her going to a nail tech she walks straight into a nail shop

6/10

Historia

-i most definitely feel like historia would go ALL out

-She makes getting her nails done into a event and like period cant really hate on her

-gets her nails done frequently halloween? she already booked her appointment! Christmas? She already got the inpso pic!

-Most definitely have a private nail tech she drags ymir each time she goes(even tho that btch dont get nothin😒)

- also gets nail art

-BUT i could also see her with a short classy french tip set yk this girl got a whole town to run🤭💅🏾

10/10

Ymir

-if your looking at a blank image yea she doesnt get her nails done

-Theirs no point😭 she doesnt get the point spending money on powder and plastic only for it to popped off in the next 2 weeks

-doesnt even get painted😟

-dont even take care of her nails

-has hang nails

-SHES A NAIL BITER TOO.

(cues SpongeBob scream)

1/10

Girl do better.

Sasha

-she rocks both long and short but i put long up there

-Shes the type of client who has food and dirt under their nails😷

-Ew

-but minus her eating she takes really good of her nails

-and also tips well :)

8/10

BONUS

Mama Carla

-Say what you want about her! but she slays!!!

-doesnt let her age stop her and she gets nice nail sets

-not to long or short appropriate

-she still gotta get on eren🙄

10/10

i couldn’t resist.😭

EREN

-Now yall know eren would come and get this

-he loves coming with he’s mama to the nail shop

-even INSISTS he get hes feet done too

7/10

[lovelylogans]

the parent trap

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: epilogue

Two very similar boys help their two very different families assimilate into one.

⁂

“Aw, Pa, do we have to?”

Patton—still entirely unused to driving on the left side of the road and therefore relegated to the passenger’s seat—gives Remus a Look through the rearview mirror.

“Even if this wasn’t suggested by the lawyer to clearly illustrate the harm that judge had on your upbringing, yes, I absolutely would have pushed for this on my own.”

“It’s a big upheaval in your lives, anyway,” Janus says, absently reaching over to pat Patton’s hand as he cranes his neck to watch for incoming traffic. “Too right you should have someone to talk to that isn’t related to you.”

“Or Virgil.”

“Or Virgil,” Janus amends. “And before either of you get any ideas, if you absolutely hate it there: fine. We shall find another child psychologist. But if you prank your way out of there, then that means you’re going to another child psychologist and your time in therapy will increase, as pranking the people you dislike is not a healthy way to express your feelings.”

The twins exchange a look.

Patton hopes that look means darn, any potential plan is foiled! but even he can see that there’s still some mischief brewing in those matching heads of theirs.

But any complaints are cut short by Janus pulling into the parking lot; sorry, the car park, he’s still getting used to all that.

Patton and Janus herd the boys in; they shuffle in, all together, to a cozy-looking if slightly bland waiting room, the other three taking up all the seats on the available couch as Patton approaches the front desk.

“Hi,” Patton says. “Appointment for Remus and Roman, under Parker-James?”

“Parker-James?” The person at the desk says, flipping through their agenda calendar. “Remus and Roman Parker-James… yes, I have you right here, he should be ready pretty soon…”

Janus flips through a spare copy of Vogue; the boys play some kind of hand-slapping game they must have learned at camp; Patton pretends to read the magazine in his hands while watching them both out of the corner of his eyes.

“Parker-James?” A voice calls from inside the office.

All four of them stand and make their way into the room.

The room is set up in mostly earth-tones; brown couches, leather armchair, nice wooden bookshelves stocked up with the books chock full of the latest therapeutic breakthroughs, a few plants tucked away in the corners. 

The pops of color come from the cartoon decor; little figurines, paintings, a few stuffed animals tucked into strategic locations. Rubber ducks and Disney heroines and plucky child protagonist and superheroes, stretch as far as the eye can see.

And there’s a great tarp set up on the floor and transparent plastic wrapped over the chairs, hanging in front of the bookshelves with their decorations and books, with a variety of incredibly tempting, messy-looking acrylic paints ripe for any child to cause chaos.

“Hello there, boys,” the therapist says with a smile, setting aside his pen and notebook. “I’m Dr. Emlie Picani. I’ll be your therapist. Do either of you enjoy painting?”

The boys exchange a look, this one much less loaded with mischief, but both nod.

“Good!” Dr. Picani says. “Me too. I’d like this first session to be much less formal—and don’t worry if you get a bit messy with it, I’ve got all these tarps laid out and I believe your Dads have brought spare clothes if necessary. And, on that note—Dads, if you’ll take your leave?”

“Be good,” Janus says, smoothing a hand over Remus’s then Roman’s hair.

“Have fun, boys!” Patton says, and they take their leave.

Patton has a pretty good feeling about this.

⁂

“All right, Remus?”

“All right,” Remus says, getting pretty used to the way the British exchange this particular pleasantry. “Uncle Logan’s sent down—”

“Ah, a cuppa!” Grandfather exclaims, taking tray off Remus’s hands. “Now, I’ll be mother—would you like one?”

“What is it?” Remus says.

“Earl grey, looks like,” Roman says, taking his nose out of the book he’s reading long enough to look.

“Yeah, I’ll have one,” Remus says, flopping onto one of the numerous couches in the study. “Thanks, Grandpa Toby.”

Grandfather putters about with the tray for a moment, taking a moment to add something to his—Remus spies the amber-colored liquid in the glass bottle Grandfather keeps in an isolated place where the children can’t reach it.

“Here you are, Roman, bit of honey—Remus, yours with enough sugar to kill me—”

“No brandy?” Remus says, giving Grandfather a hopeful look.

“Certainly not,” Grandfather says, as if he didn’t literally just sneak away a healthy slug into his own teacup. “You’ll stick to your wines, and you’ll have to ask your fathers to indulge in that, besides.”

Remus considers this. “How many years until that wavers?”

Grandfather pauses. 

“When you’re eighteen!” Roman squawks.

“Yes, certainly,” Grandfather says with an approving nod to Roman. “When you’re eighteen. That’s the responsible answer.”

Roman nods in satisfaction and returns his attention to his book.

“When I’m twelve?” Remus whispers.

“Certainly not,” Grandfather says, just as quietly.

“Thirteen.”

“No.”

“Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“...Eighteen.”

“Oh, puh-lease, as if you didn’t have moments of underage drinking, you can’t judge me for wanting to try things.”

Grandfather pauses, then waggles his hand side-to-side.

“Knew it,” Remus mutters, and he picks up a section of Grandfather’s newspaper. The sports section—Remus has been told in very certain terms about which teams the Jameses do and do not support, but it’s all gone in one ear and out the other—and pretends to read the articles while he really keeps an eye out to see if they’ve put any of the fun, rude chants in the paper.

(Tragically, no.)

And so they sit in silence, sipping their tea and reading their individual pieces of interest, and neither twin breathes a word to their fathers when their Grandfather cracks open the study window and busies himself with packing his pipe the instant the tea is done and spends the afternoon merrily smoking away.

⁂

Janus had initially been surprised that Patton had so willingly gone along with his insistence on filing a legal custody arrangement, even though they were once again back together.

The Patton he married nearly a dozen years ago probably would have insisted it wasn’t necessary, that they were together now and there was no point in it, but the Patton of today had fervently agreed and pored over the agreement with a metaphorical fine-toothed comb.

A decade without one of your sons was enough to change a person, Janus supposed.

Even if Patton tended to call it the Worst Case Scenario document.

“Okay,” Janus says, examining it. “Each boy returns to their original schooling, if necessary.”

“Even year summers are mine; odd year summers are yours,” Patton says. “The boys spend your birthday with you, and my birthday with me, when possible.”

“You have American Thanksgiving, always, which would mean I would always Bonfire Night.”

“Even year Christmas-and-Boxing-Days are yours; even year New Year’s are mine.”

“And Easters and other minor holidays in which the boys have a break from schooling alternate, with potential to revise the custodial arrangement until the boys are eighteen, at which point they’ll be free to spend holidays as they choose.”

They examine the paperwork in silence.

“Do you think we missed anything?” Janus says.

“I don’t think so,” Patton says uncertainly. “I’m sure Remy will tell us if we did.”

“Yes, that he would,” Janus says.

They stare at the paperwork some more.

“And now,” Patton says. “To file it away with Remy and hope we never need it.”

“To hope we never need it,” Janus agrees fervently, and Patton leans in for a kiss.

⁂

Not to be dramatic, but Remus has been dying from excitement looking forward to this moment literally since the moment their parents decided to send Remus to Roman’s fancy British school.

The fact that he has to wear a suit and tie kind of sucks, though. But it’s kind of nice that he’s going to be in all the same classes as Roman, if solely to spend more time teasing his brother and nothing else sentimental.

The school is smaller than Remus’s public California school; it’s all red brick and ivy, with a SOCCER field out back, a little bit outside of the edges of the city proper. He rides on the bus (also new—Virgil usually drove him to and from school, back home) and Roman escorts him to the office to make sure all of their paperwork is filed, like Dad told him to.

It is—he has to do hardly anything, just carry a form for his new teacher to fill out. He ignores whatever map they’re offering and just falls into step behind Roman.

The teacher meets him in the hall, signs his form, and goes into the classroom to introduce him.

Remus smiles to himself. Excellent. A dramatic entrance.

“Class,” the teacher says. “We have a new student this year—a Mr. Remus Parker, from California, in America. Come in, Remus, we can find a place for you next to your brother.”

Remus walks in, to whispers of wow, Roman has a twin! and American?! unhearing to all of it, his eyes searching the room for one familiar face.

He finds it.

All of the blood has drained from Dick Davies’s face, making him look even more pale and awful than usual. He’s slithered down in his chair, looking moments away from letting out a pathetic, awful whimper.

Remus offers his most bloodthirsty, shit-eating grin.

He does find a spot near Roman—near the back of the room, which is excellent. None of his American teachers would have made that mistake.

He waits until class is underway before he starts making mischief.

Like fucking Spalding he writes on a piece of paper, crumpling it into a ball, which he proceeds to chuck, full-strength, at the back of Davies’s head. Davies picks it up, frowning, and reads.

He lets out a really undignified squawking noise, which gets him giggled at by his classmates and scolded by their teacher. Roman grins sheepishly into his notebook, exchanging a look with Remus.

Yeah, Remus thinks. It’s going to be a fun year.

⁂

Janus loves London dearly.

He was born and raised there; he’s raising his children there. London is like another member of the family.

But Napa was certainly very nice at this time of year.

Janus lets out a pleased sigh at the sight of the sun, hands braced on the balcony railing as he looks over the vineyard sprawling below them. 

“You’re like a cat,” a familiar voice says behind him, amused.

Janus smiles, but he doesn’t turn to see his visitor; instead, he simply theatrically tilts his face into the sunrays, taken up by the sweet, simple treasure of his body inundated by the sun’s glow.

“Sitting in the little sunspots and soaking up all the warmth,” Patton continues, pressing his lips to the nape of Janus’s neck; Janus can feel him smiling there.

“The boys are off,” Patton murmurs. “You’ll probably see them galloping out if you stand here long enough.” 

Janus grins. “I’m sure Roman’s eager for the excuse to dress up as a proper countryman.”

“They look pretty cute in the flannels,” Patton says, and he wraps his arms around Janus’s waist. “You do, too.”

“It is yours.”

“Ah, that must be part of it,” Patton murmurs, and Janus laughs.

“I’m sure you were probably coming to soak up the sun before you return to the frigidity of London.”

“Well, I won’t lie—that’ll definitely be a nice part of being here again,” Patton says. 

“And the other part?”

Patton presses another kiss to his neck, more lingering, more heated.

“Nice big house,” Patton says, “I think we’re the only ones in it” and Janus laughs; even after all these years, Patton can barely bring himself to say anything past the implication of innuendo.

“All right, then,” Janus says, turning to wrap his arms around Patton’s neck. “Bring me in we’ll do our best to keep each other warm.”

And Patton, pulling him along to their bedroom, certainly does.

⁂

“I guess there’s a lot to do on a vineyard this time of year.”

Roman surveys the grape vines, buzzing with employees and tourists alike, from his place tucked amidst the trees, atop Sprout. He is—once again—wearing the full wannabe cowboy outfit: flannel shirt, jeans, boots that Papa got for him practically as soon as they arrived in California, and his truly excellent cowboy hat.

Remus—a more experienced rider and therefore permitted to ride Papa’s Cinnamon—looks over at him with an expression that reads duh. 

He’s also in jeans and boots, but he’s wearing a band t-shirt with one of Virgil’s old flannels thrown over the top, and a black cowboy hat. Basically the all-black, goth-equivalent of Roman’s red-and-white, wannabe-cowboy outfit.

Roman decides to read it as fond, reasserting his grip on the reins. “It is nice to feel warm weather, though.”

“Oh, you’re telling me,” Remus says. “I’ve never seen snow like I’ve seen in London—and it doesn’t even stick around very long! All the cars water it down to gray slush—”

“—and Dad and Uncle Logan would not be pleased it you started tracking that inside,” Roman says hastily, lest Remus resume his ideas of dirty snow snowball fights. Roman does not want to deal with slush down the back of his newest jumpers, thank you.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Remus sighs, waving him off, and turning his face to the Napa sun. Weak as it is, Roman thinks, it’s certainly much warmer here than it is back home in London, where carolers and bell-ringers have set up shop on practically every corner. 

It’s not their first time back in Napa since their parents resumed their romance, but they are here for the longest; they’ll be back in London in time for Christmas, Boxing Day, and New Years’ with Grandfather, but the James-Parkers have decided to take advantage of the stretch of much better weather down in Napa while the pair of them are off school.

So: plentiful horse rides in the vineyard, getting up the courage to maybe splash around the much chillier pool, occasional jaunts into nearby cities and towns, baking cookies with Virgil and Uncle Logan. 

Roman’s really looking forward to it. 

“You know,” Roman says, contemplative. “The last time I was around this spot, Papa was trying to tell me he was going to marry Maddox?”

Remus makes a dreadful gagging noise. “Ugh, could you imagine?”

“I bet we’d be stuffing his Christmas cookies full of cinnamon so he’d choke on them.”

“Stuffing his stocking with dead fish!”

“Wrapping up a list of numbers for divorce lawyers as a present for Papa!”

“Pushing him out on an iceberg with the penguins!”

They both crack up at the memory of Maddox flailing in the middle of the lake.

“I’m really glad our fathers sent us to the same camp.”

“Ugh,” Remus complains, then, “yeah, I guess I am too.”

They sit in companionable silence for a while. There are a few birds, perhaps on their way south for the winter, chirping quietly in the trees. The distant murmur of people in the fields reaches them in a hush. The fields are less verdant than it was in the true depths of summer, but everything here is certainly much greener than anything in London. The scent of wildflowers wafts on the slight breeze, distant but there. 

It’s really very nice.

Then:

“Raceya!” Remus shouts, and him and Cinnamon are off like a shot.

“Hey, no fair!” Roman yelps, digging his heels into Sprout’s side, and they speed off after his brother, kicking up dust behind them.

⁂

Logan thinks that Janus has placed a sprig of mistletoe in the doorway leading from kitchen to dining room solely for the purpose of attacking Patton with kisses whenever he goes to get everyone more wine.

Not that Logan is complaining. It works to his advantage, too.

Logan waits, quiet, as the sink shuts off, as the last cabinet closes, and then he takes a purposeful step forward.

Just in time to catch Virgil coming back from washing the dishes.

“Oh,” Logan says. “Look at that. We’ve been caught under the mistletoe.”

Virgil grins at him. “Accidentally, I’m sure.”

“Was I being too subtle? No, I want to kiss you.”

Virgil laughs. “Merry Christmas, Logan.”

“Merry Christmas, Virgil,” Logan whispers back, and Virgil leans in, pressing their lips together, Logan leaning back against the doorframe and wrapping his arms around Virgil’s neck.

They thoroughly fulfill the criteria of kissing under the mistletoe.

⁂

It’s almost weirder to Patton that he isn’t experiencing a ton of déjà vu.

Sure, it’s his second wedding day; sure, it’s in the same place as it was last time; sure, it’s to the same man, but other than that, there isn’t much else that’s the same.

For one thing, their relatives have managed to make it this time, Patton’s dearest regret of eloping the way he did; his sister, Linda, is standing beside Janus’s father, their heads bent together, discussing something very intently.

Their boys, in matching suits of white—Remus with a basket of flower petals, an errant rose probably plucked from a floral arrangement stuck behind his ear. Roman holds the rings, smiling up at Patton. 

(They’d considered the boys for the opposite jobs—Roman surely would have liked to be tossing flower petals everywhere—but then Patton thought priceless wedding rings and Remus’s brand of mischief and they’d quickly swapped them around.)

Patton smiles back at his son, reaching down to ruffle his hair, thinking better of it, and instead squeezing his shoulder.

“You ready, Pat?” Virgil murmurs from his rightful place at Patton’s side as his best man.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready,” Patton confesses, adjusting the lapels of his silver-gray suit jacket, mindful not to crush his boutonniere of a tiny, pale pink rose and white alstroemerias. “I should be more nervous, right? I should be nervous, but I’m just really excited.”

A corner of Virgil’s lip quirks up, his eyes straying back toward where Logan is ducking back to see to any of Janus’s last-minute needs.

“Or maybe,” Patton suggests innocently, “all this talk of weddings is maybe leading you to think about…?”

Virgil laughs, a nervous, gleeful giggle, as Remus blitzes down the aisle, pelting anyone and everyone with rose petals. 

“What, your wedding could make me think about my potential wedding?”

“Maybe you should,” Patton says, “think about a potential wedding, I mean” and Virgil snorts.

Roman gives Virgil an excited look at the thought of another occasion for fancy outfits, and he has to prodded into remembering his entrance timing by Vendela.

“How about we get through this wedding before we start worrying about another one?” Virgil says.

Patton grins, links arms with Linda—Janus’s father has gone back to join Logan and Patton’s once-groom-now-groom-again—and waves Virgil off on his walk down the aisle. 

And now Linda squeezes his arm, rubbing up and down.

“Last chance to back out,” Linda jokes, her brown eyes and tan skin accentuated by the pale rose gown and matching shawl that Janus has put her in.

“Not on your life,” Patton says, breathless and giddy, which makes Linda laugh.

“Ready?” Vendela murmurs and, before he can answer, she says “and go” and suddenly Linda’s walking him down the aisle.

He feels a little awkward with everyone’s eyes on him, but he finds it’s easy enough to tune it out when he smiles and waves to his friends and family—the folks who help him at the vineyard, cousins and aunts and uncles, friends from school and beyond.

He finds it easiest of all when he focuses on the end of the aisle: the officiator, Virgil with his hands behind his back, smiling at him fondly; and his boys, handsome in their not-quite-matching white suits, discreetly elbowing each other.

When they reach the aisle, Linda stands to kiss him on the cheek.

“Love you,” she murmurs. 

“Love you too.”

She departs to her seat. Patton takes a moment to once again squeeze Roman’s shoulder and to ruffle Remus’s already-messy hair before he stands at the altar, staring down the aisle.

It somehow takes forever and also just a moment before Janus makes his entrance.

And Patton loses the air from his very lungs.

Janus—handsome, always—seems to have moved from beautiful to ethereal. 

He’s stunning, wearing a self-made suit with a tailcoat in all white, from his intricately-knotted tie to his shining white oxfords, except for the soft patch of pink over his heart that denotes his boutonniere that matches Patton’s.

Patton blinks out the first of many, many joyful tears of the day.

Patton can barely notice the way Logan is smiling shyly at Virgil.

(He does notice, in fairness. But it’s very difficult to not be staring at his ex-husband/husband-to-be.)

Janus smiles at him, that familiar wicked curve of his mouth, the port wine birthmark across his cheek, those mesmerizing eyes, and Patton beams back, cheeks aching and sure that he looks very silly, but he can’t bring himself to care.

At last, at long last, Janus’s father kisses Janus on the cheek, gives Patton a very firm handshake, and goes to offer the boys a paternal pat on the shoulders before he finds his seat beside Linda.

Logan ascends, taking a brief moment to give Virgil an unchoreographed kiss on the cheek before he flees back to his place.

But then Janus is standing before him, smiling. He’s so handsome. He’s so incredible. He’s so happy that this is the father of his children, the man he’s married once, the man he’s going to marry again.

Janus offers his hands. Patton seizes them, squeezing hard, almost blinded by his happy tears.

“I love you,” is all Patton can say, murmured under the swell of music.

“I love you too,” Janus whispers back, under the rustle of everyone sitting down again.

He can hear Roman’s daydreamy sigh and can only hope that Remus will suppress the urge to go “UGHHH” at an inopportune time in the ceremony.

“Ready?” The officiator murmurs. Patton and Janus nod, not taking their eyes off each other, and the officiator turns on his microphone.

“Friends, family, and loved ones, we are gathered here today…”

Janus squeezes his hands. Patton smiles at him.

Yeah.

They’re ready.

previous chapter | masterpost

[ranarh]

Veiled

I believe this is my most successful acrylic painting of my recent series. Inspired by dark fantasy painters I managed to get just the right horror film lighting, and a decent collaboration of my materials, even if the patterned paper I added to the veil and robe with image transfer caused a lot of trouble. I started by using foam rollers for a few light, splotchy layers of green, blue, and yellow across the image, washed some blues into the figures and continued to paint by adding local colours first, then shading largely with slightly tinted blacks. Midway through I used some washes again to unify the blue-red-green gradient that had emerged. After the initial layers I largely painted around the metal leaf bits of the background; the foreground ones were added from a vial that I collect excess leaf in, pressed into the size with a silicone tool. I am happy I managed to keep some of the coloured pencil lines on the face that I deliberately overdid. When I was finally unsure about whether or not i should drag the background yellow streaks into the figure I overlaid a sheet of plastic foil to try first. Makeshift digital layer! I might not have been courageous enough otherwise (painting on paper doesn't allow for just wiping something off I don't like). "Veiled", acrylic and metal leaf on Bristol carton, A4.

To find me across the web, use my LinkTree: https://linktr.ee/ranarh

[spoczkoty]

I've been using a method customarily used to mimic the look of water on dioramas to glaze coasters for ultra extra shine because I'm sick and tired of unshiny things

They're made of gold coloured epoxy resin, painted with acrylic paint. The sky blue one has iridescent blue green foil sunken in and red plastic gemstones also sunken in

[chainsawpunk]

Bodys Isek Kingelez, Kimbembele Ihunga, 1994, paper, colored paper, printed paper, cardboard, paperboard, printed commercial packaging, wood, acrylic, plastic, aluminum foil, metallic foil paper and cardboard, rubberfoam, Styrofoam, foamcore, ink, pencil, crayon, marker, paint, adhesive tapes, stickers, fabric, yarn, string, thread, twine, beads, balls, straws, wire, grommets, toothpicks, pins, nails, aluminum cans, plastic bottles, caps, mirrors, figurines, slide mounts, ballpoint pen shafts, circuit-board diodes, and electric lights, 51 3/16" × 72 13/16" × 10' 5" (130 × 185 × 320 cm)

[helicoptersandcrocodilesegwells]

DIY posable winged dragon Art doll

The first thing done in this tutorial is sculpt the head using tin foil for the base and super sculpy for the features and shape, adding and shaping clay to get the the desired effect and baking it so it will harden.

she then attached the head and paws that she had made from clay to the armature she made from twisting wire together and bending it to create a body using hot glue to secure any ‘joints’ and then using long strips of quilt batting she builds up the body . Apparently quilt batting sticks to itself and doesn’t need any glue or tape which I didn’t previously know.

After that is done she lays the dragon down on her chosen fabric  and cuts the entire length of the body making sure it’s wide enough to wrap around the body and cut slits in the fabric to slip the limbs through. Them trim the edges down and sew straight down the middle and then shave the fur down to the length you want.

Then she used white acrylic paint on the sculpy parts and after that she decided to make the horns. She made them out of instamorph with are small plastic beads that become malleable when put in hot water and then stay in their new shape once cooled.

And for the wings she added smaller parts of sticking out wire and slid on each individual feather securing them with hot glue. 

After that she layered some fur over the wires that attached the feathers to hide them and give something for the smaller feathers to hold on to. 

[sharpartgallery]

Folk Identity: Chapter 2

A lady bird landed on the tip of the cub’s nose, then flew with the wind, to the lake and landed near a swan. The wind believed the ladybird to be lucky, so trusted the swan. Swans were rare and there was always a chance of a bad one, making a good swan rarer. The luck of the ladybird eased the wind, who relaxed by the lake, creating a still, glittering sheen of placid water. The ladybird explored around her, landing on leaves with their breath of delicious life, finding its way into the world. The constant state of luck was better than divination, and better than a good person who does all things right.

The regal swan glided across the water, and the ladybird started to think, perhaps luck and fortune are different? The envy-inspiring wonder of the swan’s presence to the surrounding creatures prompted the wind to circulate around the bird, the water disturbed by the wind, splashed in distress, and the swan hid away. Only the ladybird with her luck would see her. Can what hides away be better when it cannot be enjoyed, except it enjoys the wonder of itself in its solitude?  Like a ball bounced against a wall, straight back to where it came from. There is no game. Maybe some calm though.

The wind continued,  past the pond and up a small hill, where above stood a grand statue. The wind realized its own ease as now there was a butterfly in its mist, confidently fluttering, swooping as it danced through the humid summer air. Eventually landing on the statue, carefully carved in the form of the great horse from a battle many believed to be myth. A warning, a series of moral lessons. But the few who knew the truth of the battle would have been grateful beyond words to know that the butterfly landed on the statue. A sure sign that the soul of the horse lived on. 

'The Birth of Indigo Children' By Eurekah

The Birth of Indigo Children

By

Eurekah

The concept or descriptive of Pseudo-Scientific New Age, isn’t new.  It’s been a term used broadly for the past twenty-five years but mainly came into conscious thinking maybe around the 1960’s.

It describes Indigo children as having special spiritual powers, insights and intuition; gifts. I, myself, can definitely vouch to having met a number of people with brilliant spiritual powers, insights, knowing and gut-feelings, a subject often frowned upon.

So why this piece? This piece, entitled, ‘The Birth of Indigo Children,’ was borne out of frustration! Frustration for the politics, discriminatory practices, lack of understanding and stereotypical thinking that shrouds society towards difference. When I say difference, I mean towards people who are living with (dis) abilities whether, physical, mental, spiritual or emotional. I’m aware attitudes towards some individuals can often be oppressive and discriminative especially in relation to children, as well as adults, whose living experiences are, ADHD, DID AS, Autism, Dyslexia, Dyspraxia, Dysphasia, Dyscalculia, Mental Health, COPD, or any other ailments, considered to be different within society.

As much as we would like to believe, being different is accepted, more often than not, it isn’t! (Dis)abilities, still carries stigmas, unwanted stares, judgements and ridicule and even shame, as well as pride. I’ve lived this experience.

For this particular piece, I chose to use several different objects such as my own ECG sticky pads to represent babies within three expectant mother’s wombs, netting from onions and lemons, as well as using acrylic paints. The butterflies are all hand-designed while the boxes and butterflies come in all shapes, colours, and sizes. I’ve used a variety of materials such tissue paper, Kente cloth, textured Gele material, foil, plastic, (and a few scatterings of eggshells too, as a metaphor to, not only to depict (eggs), the birth of children with (dis)abilities, but also to portray a visual image of being ‘box-in’ by restraints. I wanted to create a 3D-effect by raising the butterflies lightly off the paper to give the impression they’re in flight.

So why paint boxes and butterflies?

To explain why, I’ll have to give a brief backstory.  From the age of five, I have always drawn boxes, even when doodling. My numerology number is also 4, and I have 4-adult (children) and it’s one of my favourite numbers. On a subconscious level, I guess I’ve always felt ‘boxed-in’ by constraints, beit the school and university system, people’s attitudes, employment structures and sometimes life! Truth be told, I’ve also always felt different, but more to the point, a sinking sense of misplacement and displacement.

Boxes represent the boxed-in-ness, enclosure, restraints, square houses, rooms, shapes and also trying to fit into structures and societal infrastructures. Butterflies, on the other hand, represent change, evolution, growth, freedom, beauty, being delicate, lightness, air, and uniqueness. They also have a limited life-span, anywhere from two or four week or in some parts of the world, up to one year. This indicates to my person, we must live life to the fullest and with joy, love, laughter and positivity because tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.

I consider my person to be quite a rebel, and person with a cause. I’m rebellious and detest conformity hence why I decided to create this art piece. I am not resistant to change, but I am resistant against society dictating who it thinks I should be. My motto is, ‘Don’t try to rearrange me.’ As an African Woman born in the Caribbean, I’m a Mother, Gran’mother, Artist and Writer. I know who I am.

As a person living with various (dis)abilities myself, and knowing what I know, having experienced those around my person living with ADHD and other abilities, I consider all individuals who, for whatever reason, have been labelled, whether chosen or given a label or self-defined labelling, as super-power individuals with special gifts. They, we, I, Indigo Children, the use of the term, could be considered another label. Some may have gifts of insight, or their either they’re great mathematicians, super articulate, great writers, have the ability to learn scripts with ease, carry out spiritual readings, spiritually connected, are amazing artists, they’re organised with chaos, (I can definitely put my hands up here), sensitive, excellent at doing jigsaw puzzles, confident, introverts, brilliant dancers, all these gifts and so much more.

I’m fully aware that a system can make or break people. In saying this, I would like think, my art piece, The ‘Birth of Indigo Children,’ will give people food for thought, evoke questions, allow people to look at themselves, their behaviour towards others, challenge stereotypical thinking, climb out of their own boxes, discard or create new ones, be creative, live free, explore and be inspired to create change.

I trust you’ll enjoy these moments as you view this artistic piece.

Thank you for your time and energy.

Take good care.

Eurekah

Did you find this story through one of our QR codes out in the community?

Check out the South London Well-being Map for other places that are creative or good for you mental health.

[morbidule]

Heart 💔

Another small bidule that was on the back burner for a while. Trying to explore a more impressionist style of crafting and adding lots of spirals.

Material used:

Papier Mâcher

Aluminum foil

Plastic tube

hot glue

Acrylic paint

I forgot to take pictures of the process but if you want to do something similar, I suggest that you shape your work with aluminum foil as it makes it really light. Add two or three layers of papier mâché. Afterward being dry, you can use paper clay to add the details that you want with some sculpting tools. After a day, spray paint then paint with acrylic!

And voila some spooky décor!

[jcardona-7]

Hey, I'm Jose! a known fact about me is that I love animation and I'm a motion designer, I work mainly with digital tools but when I get tired of the computer I enjoy working with mediums like acrylic paint. The artwork that was assigned to me was #17 When I first looked at it, I thought it was an altar, it was a little bit confusing and overwhelming because of the number of individual objects, even though the objects from the left and right sides are the same and show great balance, they also possess a lot of detail, and maybe that's why it looks crowded to me.  1- Title and Artist: "Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations Millennium General Assembly" By James Hampton. 2- James Hampton created the "Throne" over a period of fourteen years, driven by his religious visions and belief in preparing for Christ's return to earth.

3- The artwork reflects a complex fusion of Christianity and African-American spiritual practices, incorporating themes of deliverance and freedom.

4- This one is really cool, Hampton used materials such as cardboard, plastic, old furniture, jelly jars, light bulbs, and metallic foils.

5- Objects on the right side symbolize the New Testament and Jesus, while those on the left represent the Old Testament and Moses. When I found out the artwork was a throne, it all clicked. At first, I couldn't really see the shape of the chair, but after looking at more pictures, it became clear. The coolest part was learning that it was made from mixed media. I always love it when artists use recycled materials to create their pieces. I also appreciate it even more now knowing the artist spent fourteen years working on it. Imagine dedicating that much time and passion to a single project!