#I AM GOING TO BE DRAWING SO MUCH ART FROM THIS

[onehundredfallenpetals]

And maybe this is killing part of me, but it ain't called love without a little tragedy

[scarlet-bee]

Hey everyone, this is an emergency and this person really needs help. I haven't drawn much in a while so I'm kinda rusty, but if you send me proof of your donation (donated after this reblog is posted), I'll draw a small doodle for you. Here are some examples of my art:

[ID 1: A messy pen sketch of Audrey, from the "Little Shop of Horrors" film, drawn in a cartoon art style. The drawing is just her head, and she is smiling. The watermark says "scarlet-bee / tumblr." End ID.]

[ID 2: A slightly messy pen drawing of Audrey II, from the "Little Shop of Horrors" film. It is in its final, largest form. The drawing is just its head, and its mouth is open, showing its teeth and tongue. The watermark says "scarlet-bee / tumblr." End ID.]

For $5 and below, I will do one drawing. Above $5, I will do one drawing for every $5 donated (for example, $15 is 3 drawings).

I have the right to refuse any request, but I am willing to work with you to find something else that we'd both be happy with. I will not draw NSFW.

Please be patient with me, as it will probably take me a little while to get to your request. Please go ahead and donate as soon as you can, and then we can work out the details of your drawing(s) afterwards.

Also, please don't be too upset if your drawing does not turn out like you wanted. These are requests, not commissions. The most important thing is helping out someone in need.

Hi dusting this off again, because I was denied asylum.

I'm going to try to get a lawyer but I definitely don't know if I'll be able to get one, as many were resistant to helping me before

Either way I need. So much help. Originally I was asking for 5k, but I'm going to raise that because they situation is looking so much worse. You can go to the campaign or you can support me directly.

Even if If I'm denied again I cannot go back home, there's no home to go back to and my country wants me dead only slightly more than my relatives I think. Anything that isn't used to relocate will be used to start over.

I know yall hate reading these so tldr I need as much help as possible to avoid death. I've seen people get thousands for gender affirming surgery, so I'm hoping that means you want to see this trans person survive

Kofi campaign | paypal | venmo | cashapp

[darkbluekies]

Valentines dates with the ocs♡

warnings: none<3

A/N: i found some times on my breaks to write something small, I hope you'll like it! I hope you're going to have a sweet Valentines, I'm going to study with a course friend and then go fika with my best friend from high school ♡

Silas:

This man is is sucker for dates and would have them every night if he could. Valentines day is his favorite, though, because it gives him a reason to go all out. He'd book an expensive restaurant and let you pick whatever you want from the menu. His men would be guarding every corner of the building.

"Why there are no prices in your menu? Why do you want to know the prices? Are you paying? Who am I kidding, of course you aren't. Silly thing, aren't you cute? I'm taking you out on a date, not the other way around. Pick something."

Dr Kry:

Spending valentines in a hospital is bad enough, but not being able to spend it with anyone is even worse. Dr Kry would act like your boyfriend. He'd come into the room with roses and a box of expensive chocolates and a small gift of some sort that he'd know you would appreciate.

"It's just me, unfortunately, but I hope i can make your day good enough, despite the circumstances. These chocolates, I've been told, are quite the deal. They're exclusive ones from Belgium. Cost me a bit but if they're tasty that's all that matters. And I hope you'll like the sketchbook and the pens i got you, I know how boring it can be in here sometimes. Draw me something, why don't you?"

King Edmund:

This man does not kid around when it comes to valentines day. He will gift you pearls, jewels, clothes, flowers, pets. He will shower you in all his suffocating love and if you dare to show the slightest bit of overwhelm he'll throw a tantrum. A perfect date for him would be something away from people's eyes, maybe take a trip on the royal yacht.

"It's nice to be away for a while, isn't it? Away from everyone lusting over you. Here, I can have you all to myself. I can't imagine a more perfect valentine's day. Do you like how I've decorated? Every flower in the kingdom has been cut and put in here, all for you."

Jerry:

Unlike the others, she detests Valentine's day. She doesn't believe in showing love once a year through capitalistic marketing tactics. Why should a teddy bear with an 'i love you' heart matter more than a normal teddy bear any other day of the year? Instead, she'd make Valentine's day into "your day" where you could choose a date and Jerry is not allowed to complain. This year, you've chosen a museum.

"What? No, I'm not making faces. I'm not complaining, baby, I'm just not understanding why a blob on a canvas is more popular than actual pieces of art. But if you like them, I do too."

Hedwig:

Hedwig's almost as bad as Edmund. She'll spend a fortune on gifts for you and cling onto you all day. She'll want you to match and will treat the entire day as a date. You'll go to amusement parks, cafés, restaurants, shops and eventually ending the day at her home where the two of you will have a cosy home date.

"I'm so happy, i love you so much. Valentine's day is my favorite day, did you know that? I love when people express love. And I love expressing my love for you. I'm so glad I can spend my Valentine's with you, I wouldn't want to spend it any other way."

[redmedic]

HAPPY (LATE) VALENTINE'S DAY 💘

Hello all! Here are some crops from the amazing Valentine's collab I've done with the lovely @dorkpatroller - of Bloodweave from her Romance Scam AU.

I've been so excited to share the finished pieces with you guys, and I am absolutely BUZZING for everyone to read the gorgeous fic that pairs with it. This was so much fun to do, and such a fun challenge to draw. I hope you enjoy the steaminess of the art as much as the incredible fic. You can view all these in full on my Patreon or embedded in the fic, which you can read here! (obvious warning for NSFW).

PLEASE go read the fic, it's saucy and passionate and so well done. It was an absolute privilege to work with Bri again! (And always - ilysm)

As always - lots more to see on my Patreon, please go check it out and support me on there if you have the means!

Patreon | Instagram | Redbubble | BlueSky

[scoutofmymind]

Momma I request a prompt inspired by a song of your choosing (: I L Y

Couldn’t Make It Any Harder — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: mental health issues, mentions of past trauma, TorturedArtist!Reader, Empath!Luigi, Luigi says “go birds” after flipping off a woman, confused feelings, situationship, reader is just Very Confused in general, angst, eventual romance.

Wc: 5,107

I couldn't make it

Any harder to love me

Oh, one day, believe me

You’ll want someone who makes it easy

This has been floating around in my asks for awhile, and I wasn’t feeling practically inspired by any songs lately until Sabrina released Couldn’t Make It Any Harder and I couldn’t stop thinking about writing it.

This work was done quickly between my other ongoing Luigi projects, so I apologize for any inconsistencies or skipped backstory (you know I’m a backstory bitch) but I simply needed to get this out of my system, and remembered that an anon had asked me to write something based off of a song quite awhile ago!

Also, how could I leave you hanging on Valentine’s Day? Even if I’m posting this at 2 AM….

It's 8:30 AM at your usual coffee spot — that tiny café two blocks from Luigi's apartment where the barista always draws terrible attempts at latte art, and you’re still wearing yesterday's mascara, not because you've been crying, but because you spent the night in your studio, channeling your frustration into a new piece that's all sharp edges and bold strokes.

"I mean, we had a great time!" You're gesturing with your coffee cup, nearly spilling it. "We went to that new gallery opening, and he actually understood my rant about contemporary minimalism. Then dinner, drinks, great conversation — and now? Radio silence. Three days of nothing."

Luigi, sitting across from you, is trying not to smile at how animated you are, his laptop open beside him — he's probably got a Slack channel blowing up with messages from his dev team, but he rushed to meet you for this emergency coffee session, anyway.

The startup's dress code might be casual, but he always manages to look put-together in that effortless way that makes other tech bros look like they're not trying hard enough.

"Maybe I'm just-“ you pause, stirring your coffee aggressively, "too much, you know? Too loud, too passionate, too-"

"Stop," Luigi cuts in, closing his laptop and fixing his gaze on you again, "You're not too anything. You're exactly enough. So don’t even go there with me.” He massages his temples, “Too early for it.”

"I know that," you say firmly, because you do. "That's the thing — I like who I am. I like that I can talk about art for hours. I like that I get excited about things. I like that I feel everything so intensely. I'm not going to make myself smaller just because some guy can't handle it."

"Then don't," Luigi says, and there's something in his voice that makes you look up from the foam disappearing from your cappuccino. "The right person won't want you to."

"Exactly! And you know what? If Jake can't handle a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to say it-“ you trail off, reaching for your sketchbook. You start absent-mindedly drawing on a corner of the page.

“Ugh,” Luigi’s face screws in mock disgust, “His name was Jake?”

Putting down your pen, you lean back in your chair with a frustrated sigh. "But then again, if I'm so great, why does this keep happening? Three first dates in two months, Lu. Three. And they all end the same way."

"You mean with guys who can't handle someone who actually has opinions?" Luigi takes a sip of his coffee, his fingers tapping absently on his closed laptop. A notification buzzes on his phone — probably his team wondering where he is — but he doesn't even glance at it.

"No, see, that's just it," you lean forward, your hands moving expressively as you talk. "They love it at first. They think it's so fascinating and refreshing that I'm 'not like other girls', or whatever." You roll your eyes at the phrase, hating the taste of the words in your mouth. "But then it's like they realize I'm actually serious. That I'm not just putting on some manic pixie dream girl act for their entertainment."

Luigi's mouth quirks up at one corner. "Heaven forbid you be a real person with actual thoughts and feelings."

"Right? And I know — I know I'm not too much," you say, but your voice wavers slightly. You start fidgeting with your rings, a habit Luigi's seen a thousand times when you're wrestling with something in your head. "But sometimes I wonder if-"

"If what?"

"If maybe I should just- you know.. tone it down? Just a little? Just at first?" The words sound wrong coming out of your mouth, and you can see from Luigi's expression that he knows it, too. "No, you're right, forget I said that. That's stupid."

"It is stupid," he agrees, but gently. His eyes catch yours across the table again, his gaze steady and genuine. "Remember that installation you did last month? The one about authenticity?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you tell that bag of bones professor who said it was 'overwhelmingly honest'?"

A smile starts to spread across your face. "I told him that was the whole damn point."

"Exactly." Luigi checks his watch and starts gathering his things — he's definitely late now. "So maybe the problem isn't that you're too overwhelming,” he pats the top of your head, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “maybe they're just underwhelming."

•

You're standing in front of your last piece, forcing a smile that feels like it's splitting your face in half, as another guest explains to you what your own art means.

Behind you, you can hear snippets of conversations that make your skin crawl.

It's a bit... aggressive, isn't it?

Not quite gallery standard... these nepo kids..

Experimental, but perhaps too experimental..

Your hands are shaking, so you clasp them behind your back. You've been doing this grim waltz for two hours — nodding, smiling, explaining yourself over and over to people who look through you rather than at you, and the gallery owner keeps shooting you these looks, these little disappointed glances that make you feel about two inches tall.

You catch Luigi's eye across the room.

He's been watching, you realize, while pretending to be deeply invested in a conversation with some tech entrepreneur who probably thinks art is a good investment opportunity, and he tilts his head slightly — a question.

You shake yours — you’re not okay.

"The brushstrokes here," the current patron is saying, pointing at your most vulnerable piece, "they're rather — well, chaotic. Unorganized. Muddy. It’s strange to see. Was that intentional?"

Something inside you splinters.

"Excuse me," you manage, your voice surprisingly steady for how the room is tunneling, how your fingers begin to tingle, how your lungs have lost the ability to draw in a full breath. "I need some air."

You make it through the gallery, past the whispers and the stares, past the owner who starts to say something about maintaining appearances, past the front desk and around the corner to the back alley.

Then your legs give out.

You're gasping, trying to remember how breathing works, your back against the cold brick wall. The dress — that stupid yellow dress that Luigi said was his favorite — feels too tight. Everything feels too tight.

You tear at your collar, needing air, needing space, needing- "Hey." Luigi's voice, close but not too close. "I'm here."

"I can't-" you choke out. "I can't breathe, I can't-"

"Yes, you can." He moves slowly into your space, hands hovering but not touching. "Look at me. Just look at me. I’m right here. It’s all good.”

You shake your head violently, sliding down the wall. "They're right. They're all right. I'm not- this- This isn't-" Each word feels like it's being ripped from your throat, bloody and raw and dishonest and horrific. They aren’t right. You know they aren’t.

"Bullshit." The sharpness in his voice makes you look up. He's crouched in front of you now, his tie completely undone, his eyes fierce. "They're not right. They're not even close to right. They're looking at fireworks and complaining about the noise. Old fuckin’ bunch’a assholes.”

A sob catches in your throat, half laugh, half cry. "That's a terrible metaphor."

"Made you look at me, though." His voice softens, his hands resting on your clammy shoulders. "Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe."

You try to match his exaggerated breathing, your hands still shaking. "I put everything into this show," you whisper after your second deep breath. "Everything."

"I know."

"And they just- they- they just-“

"I know." He shifts, sitting beside you against the wall, careful to leave space, but still your shoulders bump together. "But. Want to know what I think?"

You turn your head to look at him, makeup probably ruined, dress definitely stained from the alley ground, but you’ve already abandoned ship, you’ve waved your white flag — there’s no use in pretending you haven’t crumbled in a New York alleyway now. "What?"

"I think they're terrified of you."

That startles a real laugh out of you, “What?"

"You heard me." He's looking straight ahead, but there's something fierce in his profile. "You walked in there with your soul on full display, unapologetic and raw and real, and they don't know what to do with that. People like that, they're comfortable with art they can hang in their dining rooms and forget about.” You watch him blink, gathering the words, “Your shit doesn't let them forget. It makes them feel things they don't want to feel."

You nudge him gently, a laugh flaring your nostrils. "That's a lot better than the fireworks metaphor."

Now he does look at you, a small smile playing at his lips, his cheeks blushed crimson from the wine he’d gulped down just to make himself a bit more sociable. "Yeah, well, I've had three glasses of their overpriced wine. I'm feeling poetic."

Another laugh bubbles up, watery but real. You let your head fall against his shoulder, just for a moment. "I don't want to go back in there."

"So we won’t." He doesn't move, letting you lean on him, his head leaning atop yours. "Let's go get real drinks instead. You can tell me all the things you wanted to say to that guy who tried to explain color theory to you."

"God, he was the worst." You straighten up slowly, wiping at your eyes. "Did you see his socks?"

"I was trying not to."

•

You're standing at the open bar, counting the minutes until it's socially acceptable to leave, when Madison — a college friend you haven't seen in years, who always seemed to help herself to open bars beyond her means — sways over.

Her champagne sloshes dangerously close to your dress, but for some reason, you don’t step back.

"Oh my god, it really is you!" Her voice carries just a bit too loud, and you can feel a few heads turning in your direction. "I almost didn't recognize you without, you know-“ she gestures vaguely at all of you, that sick smile still on her blush pink lips. "All the paint and shit all over you.”

You take a long sip of your drink, hoping it would wash away the rising tide of anxiety in your core. "Good to see you too, Mads.”

"So,” She leans in conspiratorially, her breath smelling of booze and mid-tier champagne. “I heard about your gallery show last month. The one at The Maxwell? God, that must have been-“ She trails off, eyes wide with what looks like concern but feels like something else entirely.

Your hand tightens around your glass. "Must have been what?" Your lips tighten into a line, “It was an- an honor to have the opportunity.”

Words your father had always said to you growing up echo in the far depths of your mind; Honor and Integrity.

There’s a humility in it, in accepting such a nightmare as privilege.

"Well, I mean — I saw that article that was going around Instagram. About how you just up and left? In the middle of opening night?" She takes another sip of champagne, watching you over the rim with her big, stupid brown eyes. "Is that true? That you didn't even come back to collect your pieces? God, that's crazy!"

The word crazy hits like a slap, and you can still feel the panic from that night, the walls closing in as people whispered, pointed, discussed your work like it was a car crash they couldn't look away from and did nothing to aid.

"It's not exactly-"

"And after everything with Matt, and then Jason- ugh,” She shakes her head. "I mean, I get it. Using art as therapy. But maybe actual therapy would be — I dunno — you know, beneficial?”

"Madison-"

"I'm just worried about you," she continues, reaching for your arm and her fingers feel like serpents, coiling around your skin, suffocating you. "We all are. First the whole thing with your poor father — god, remember how he used to say you were just too-"

"Don't." Your voice comes out sharper than intended, your brows furrowed at her like she’d backhanded you. “Don’t you fucking say another word.”

Madison almost gasps, clutching her necklace. “See? This is what I mean. All this reactionary stuff. The anger. The intensity. Have you thought about getting help? My therapist says sometimes when we've been through things-"

The garden somehow feels too small, the fairy lights too bright, the music too loud. Across the room, Luigi is trapped in conversation with the bride's uncle, but somehow he must sense something because his eyes find yours, his head tilted at you, his usual question.

Everything okay?

This time, you look away from him.

"I’m going to leave this conversation before-“

"No, wait, listen." Madison's grip on your arm tightens, slithering, sneering, hissing. Fangs, poison. “That show — people were talking about it for weeks. How raw it was. How fucking uncomfortable it made everyone. One of the pieces — the one with all the broken mirrors? Someone said it looked like a cry for help."

You can feel your pulse in your throat. "It wasn't a fucking-“

"And then you just disappeared! Like, who does that, girl? Just leaves their own show? The curator had to pack up your pieces himself. That's what the article said. Is that true?" She may as well have a microphone beneath your trembling lips, taking on the role of some cheap reporter for a local shittalking magazine.

Of course she read the article.

Everyone read the article.

The one that called your work a disturbing glimpse into a clearly troubled mind. The one that suggested your artistic breakdown was inevitable given your history of emotional instability.

It was laughable, truly, and anyone that knew you well enough had known so much to be so very far from the truth.

"I had my reasons," you manage, but your voice sounds distant even to yourself. “I had reason for leaving the way I did.”

"Obviously you did. That's what I'm saying. Maybe if you got some help, you know, dealt with all this and found ways to properly cope-“ She waves her hand vaguely again, like swatting away a pesky fly. "Then maybe you could make art that's more you know.. accessible. Enjoyable. Less-“

"Less me?" The words come out before you can stop them. “Bullshit. You wouldn’t know, Madison. You haven’t seen a single one of my shows, haven’t shown yourself at any of my gallery openings-“ your cheeks burn red hot, your glass of wine discarded and your hands balled into fists. “You’re lucky I don’t fucking pop that smirk right off your-“

"That's not what I-"

“It is exactly what you fucking-“

“No, it’s not! Look at yourself!”

"Hey!” Luigi's voice cuts through the rising panic. He's suddenly there, solid and real. "Sorry to interrupt, but we have that thing that we have to get to-“ he loops his arm around yours, and he swears he can feel the heat radiating off of you, hot and quivering like a volcano deciding if it’s time to erupt just yet or not.

Madison blinks at him, her nostrils flared at the sudden interruption. It seems as though this is exactly the reaction she wanted, and was pissed the show had called curtains so quickly. "What thing?"

"That very important thing," Luigi says firmly, already guiding you away. "Great catching up. Green is not your color. Go Birds.” As he turns you both, he raises his middle finger behind your back — not because you needed defending, but because that's who Luigi is; all sharp edges and fierce loyalty, a guard dog with his teeth bared in your honor, though, you catch the gesture in a reflection, and something warm unfurls in your chest.

Not because you needed saving, but because he'd always take your side, no matter the circumstances. He didn’t need to know why you were barking at this girl he’d never met before — he already knew you had good reason to do it.

You make it to the venue's back garden before your legs give out, and the fairy lights blur through tears you refuse to let fall. "Did you— fuck,” Your voice shakes as you reach to wipe away the tears before they even get the chance to glide down your cheeks. "Did you actually hear what she was saying or just see it?”

"Caught the greatest hits." His jaw is tight, his hand resting on your lower back as he hunches forward, clearly concerned but approaching all of it carefully.

You can’t help but wonder then how many times you’ll find yourselves like this — Luigi rescuing you from yet another mishap, and that alone could become a new reason to feel sorry for yourself.

And him.

"The article." You wrap your arms around yourself. "She read the fucking article."

Ironically, you had originally taken the article well.

Too well, in fact.

You'd invited them all over — Luigi, Anna, Theo — for what you called A Reading of My Professional Obituary. You'd spent all day in the kitchen, channeling your grandmother's stress-cooking legacy; bouillabaisse simmering for hours, Tarte Tatin caramelizing to golden perfection.

The good wine came out, the kind you'd been saving for a real occasion.

Perched in your chair like it was a throne, wine glass dangling from your fingers, you'd performed dramatic readings of the choicest quotes. "Sources close to the artist describe a history of emotional instability," you'd intoned, affecting a pompous art critic voice that had Luigi choking on his wine. "An unsettling collection that seemed less like art and more like a cry for help.”

The evening devolved into a tipsy game of "Guess the Snitch" — everyone taking turns suggesting increasingly ridiculous candidates for the mysterious source. "It was Gabby, in the gallery, with the emotional manipulation!" Theo had declared, wielding his bouillabaisse spoon like a gavel.

But Luigi had watched you through it all — the way your hand shook slightly when pouring wine, how your laugh got a little too loud to be genuine, and how you'd spent three hours making a perfect French dessert like your life depended on proving you weren't falling apart.

"We all did." Luigi reminds you, his voice gentle but firm. "Christ, we turned it into dinner theater. Remember how Anna did that dramatic interpretation of ' the unsettling collection'?" His hand finds your knee, squeezing. "And it was shit. Not only was it shit — it was cowardly. Didn't even have the spine to name you."

You tilt your head back, using the stars as gravity's help against the tears threatening to spill. The fairy lights from the wedding garden blur into little halos. "I know, but — these people, Lu." Your voice catches, and you hate how it betrays you. "They believe it. They're all walking around thinking I'm some unhinged artist who needs to be sedated and locked away from sharp objects." A laugh escapes, but it's wet and hollow. "God, I wish I'd understood what that article would do. I wish-"

But there's no point in wishing.

The damage was done with surgical precision.

They hadn't needed to use your name — everyone knew exactly whose exhibition had opened at Maxwell Gallery on August fifteenth.

Yours.

•

The hotel room feels smaller with each passing hour.

You've mastered a careful choreography — sliding past each other in the narrow spaces, maintaining precise distances on the king bed as you both pretend to watch some mindless cooking show. But sometimes, despite your best efforts, you slip. His hand brushes yours as you both reach for the room service menu, your feet touch under the shared blanket; each accidental contact sends you recoiling like a startled cat, though you used to fall asleep during movie nights without a second thought.

When your knee accidentally bumps his as you shift position, you jerk away so violently you nearly fall off the bed.

"Okay." Luigi mutes the TV, turning to face you. "We need to talk about this."

"About what?" But you know exactly what, can feel heat creeping up your neck and it makes you want to run.

"About how we used to share my twin bed during college when you crashed at my place, but now you act like my skin is fucking toxic." His voice is gentle, but there's an undercurrent of hurt that makes your core ache. "Remember that road trip to Detroit? You slept on my chest the whole way back because the car heater was broken.“ he looks desperate, grasping at the last straws of you. “I feel like we hardly look each other in the eyes now.”

You stare hard at the geometric pattern on the duvet, picking at a loose thread. "Things were different then."

"Were they?" He shifts closer, and you fight the urge to move away. "Or are you just scared they weren't?"

You get up abruptly, needing to put physical space between you and that question, the Chicago night spreading out beyond the window, a constellation of lights blurring through unshed tears; each one feels like a witness to this moment, to your cowardice.

"You know what changed," you say finally, arms crossed tight against your chest like armor. "After Maxwell, after the article, after everything became public consumption — I can't be that person anymore.”

"Why not?" His voice is closer now — he's moved to the edge of the bed, but he doesn't approach further. Giving you space while refusing to let you run.

Very classic Luigi.

A laugh escapes you, bitter and dry. "Because now everyone's watching. Waiting for the next shoe to drop. And you-“ You turn just enough to catch his reflection in the window, superimposed over the city lights. "You're too important to me, Lu.”

"So you'd rather just — what? Keep pretending?" There's frustration in his voice now, raw and real. "We both know that's not sustainable. Not when we used to-“ He trails off, and you recall the many countless nights on his cramped couch, your head on his chest, his heartbeat your lullaby to the most restful sleep you’d ever known.

"Maybe not," you admit quietly. "But it's safer than the alternative."

"Safer for who?"

The question almost knocks you off your feet.

Because he's right — this careful distance isn't protecting him. It's protecting you. From vulnerability. From the possibility of loss. From the terrifying reality that despite everything, despite all your jagged edges and dark corners, he's still here.

Still looking at you like you're something precious instead of precarious.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with all the things you're afraid to say, all the ways you're afraid to need him, and even more terrified of the way he needs you.

Eventually, you turn from the window, facing him. "It can't be simple. I won't let it be." Your voice catches. "I push and I pull and I keep everyone at arm's length until they prove me right by leaving."

Luigi stands slowly, like he's approaching a wild animal. "You've been trying so hard to make it impossible," he says softly. "Creating distance, convincing yourself I'll give up." He takes another step closer. "But loving you has always been the easiest thing I've ever done."

"Don't." The word comes out choked, your hand pressing against his chest in hopes that he’ll back away. "Don't say that when you know how complicated — how- how difficult-"

"Difficult?" He's close enough now that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, stood firm but not inching any closer. "You want to talk about difficult? Try watching you date other people. Try sitting across from you at coffee shops for years and watching you cry over them. Try fucking loving you quietly through every gallery opening, every crisis,“ his brows furrow, his nostrils flare, “you don’t get to tell me what loving you is like.”

Your breath catches as he reaches for you.

"You think you're pushing me away?" His voice is barely above a whisper, his hands finally cradling your face, tears dampening your cheeks that blaze with warmth. "I've been yours since that first night you fell asleep on my shoulder during finals week. Everything since then — it's just been waiting."

You clench your jaw, your heart a wild thing against your ribs. This tightrope you and Luigi have been walking for years — this delicate balance of almost-but-not-quite, of maybe-someday-but-not-now — has finally frayed beneath your feet. All those careful steps, those perfectly maintained distances, those nights of pretending your skin didn't burn where he almost touched you.

They’ve led you here, to this hotel room in Chicago, where the fantasy of staying safely suspended between friendship and something more has finally given way to gravity.

And what, you wonder, has Luigi seen in you to make him want to dive deeper into your chaos?

He's already witnessed the 3 AM phone calls when your mind won't quiet, the obsessive cleaning episodes that leave your hands raw and your apartment sterile. He's held you through the tears that come without warning, weathered the anger that burns hot and fast like summer lightning.

You're no manic pixie dream girl — you're the real thing, messy and unpredictable, with a heart that bleeds all over everything it touches.

He's either a storm chaser or a fool, you think.

Some hopeless beast tamer who hasn't realized that some creatures aren't meant to be gentled, that some storms leave nothing but wreckage in their wake.

But that's the thing — to Luigi, you've never been a storm to weather or a beast to tame. He doesn't look at you like you're broken machinery in need of repair, doesn't treat your edges like something to be smoothed away.

Instead, he's spent years matching your pace, stepping back when you needed space, stepping forward when you needed anchor. And now, finally, the weight of all that careful patience has brought him here — raw and honest in this dim hotel room, asking you to either meet him in this space between what you are and what you could be, or lay him to rest.

"Touch me," he says, the words falling soft but heavy in the space between you. His eyes hold yours, steady and sure, "Or let me go.”

The city lights paint his silhouette in gold and shadow, and you realize you've never seen him look so vulnerable, so stripped of the careful composure he always maintains. Your Luigi laid bare — not the patient friend, not the steady shoulder, but a man who's finally reached the end of his endurance.

"What if we break?" The question slips from your lips, small and honest, carrying all the weight of your fears that kept you at such a distance all these years — shattering to pieces, left broken by the man you’d loved the most.

Luigi's eyes soften, and something like a smile — sad and sweet and knowing — tugs at the corner of his lips. "Then we break," he says simply, his thumbs swiping away the tears that slide down your cheeks. "But I'd rather that than spend the rest of my life whole and wondering."

His hands haven’t moved. Patient, steady Luigi, who has never pushed but never fully retreated, either. Who has somehow found this perfect middle ground between staying and going, between asking and waiting.

And maybe that's what finally does it — the realization that he's offering you both beginning and end in the same breath. That he's standing here saying yes to all of it; the possibility of breaking, of shattering, of ending up with nothing but deadly carnage between you.

That he knows exactly what he's asking for, and he's asking anyway.

Your hand moves before you can think yourself out of it again, crossing the space between you like a prayer finally answered. When you cup his face, the scrape of stubble against your palm is both foreign and achingly familiar — like a song you used to know by heart, now half-remembered.

His eyes flutter closed at your touch, and you feel the slight tremor in his jaw, the way he leans into your hand like he's been starving for it.

His breath catches, shaky and soft, and when he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. "There you are," he whispers against your palm, like he's greeting someone long lost, like you've finally come home after years away. "There you are."

His lips brush your palm once more before he lifts his gaze to yours, eyes dark with something between hope and heartache. "Tell me to pull away," he whispers, voice rough. "Tell me this isn't what you want, and I'll go. I'll understand."

But his body betrays him — the slight tremor still present in his jaw under your touch, the way he's still leaning into your hand like he can't help himself. He's offering you an exit, even now. Steady, selfless Luigi, always making sure you have a way out, even when it's killing him to do so.

And that's what breaks you finally — not his touch or his words, but this endless capacity of his to put your needs first.

To stand here offering everything he has left and the chance to walk away from it.

His hand finds your waist, fingers pressing into soft flesh with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. That small sound seems to undo something in him — his control fractures, and suddenly he's pulling you down to him with a urgency that matches your own, your hands bracing against his chest, feeling the thundering of his heart beneath your palms.

"I've thought about this," he confesses roughly, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes heat pool low in your stomach, his thumb tracing a burning path along your hip bone. "Having you like this.”

You can feel the tension coiled in him, the way he's still holding back despite everything. Even now, he's giving you the chance to set the pace, to decide how far this goes. But you're done with hesitation, done with the careful distance you've maintained for so long.

You lean down, letting your lips brush against his ear. "Show me," you whisper, and feel him shudder beneath you. "Show me how you wanted me."

He moves with a swiftness that steals your breath, flipping your positions in one fluid motion. Now he's the one hovering above you, his forearm braced beside your head, other hand still at your waist.

The weight of him, the heat of him so close — it makes your head spin.

"Like this," he breathes, pressing his forehead to yours. "Just like this." He holds you like you’ll run from him — just like he’s watched you run from everything before that doesn’t run from you first.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, feeling the tension there, the way he's trembling slightly despite his strength. "I'm here," you whisper back, one hand sliding up to cup his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

[baksuz-art]

okay, I just want to say thank you so so much for drawing my babies. they are everything to me and your art is fantastical! Here’s a better picture of the baby.(she’s the youngest)

she says hi :3

skrunkly little baby! 🥹🖤she looks like such a sweetheart! please tell her that i say hi too 🖤 you're very welcome, i am really glad that you like my art 😊 sorry for the wait, i usually work from the oldest messages to the newest, and sometimes there's lots of them. i hope this drawing will go well with the previous one 😄

reblogs are greatly appreciated!🐾

[meanbossart]

I adore your artstyle, and that sort of combination of eroticism and horror is something I hope to one day achieve.

But I am also hating your art for giving me too many ideas to draw. (It's actually very nice for that)

Also, a quick question. How does Drow deal with other githyanki? Not Lae'zel, just other gith. I'm attempting to figure out how he'd deal with one of my Tavs.

-Coffee <3

😂 Listen encouraging people to do more self-serving art is part of my agenda here, so don't expect any apologies from me!

DU drow's attitude toward gith is kind of similar to how he thinks about other drow, but not quite. He also believes that they are basically predisposed to being insufferable, but not necessarily conniving, power hungry or stupid - unlike what he assumes of all drow.

In other words, Githyanki don't quite put him on edge or trigger such a strong antagonistic response as his "kin" do. DU drow just always assumes that they're going to be a pain in the ass to deal with, whether it be a fight or casual conversation. If he's proven incorrect, or at least shown over time that that isn't ALL they are about, be could enter a friendship with one pretty easily.

Also, while the men are hopeless, he's definitely seen a few githyanki women that got him doing a double-take. The big eyes and tiny noses got a lot of potential.

Anyways, thank you so much for your kindness! Hopefully this is helpful at all.

[beemosketches]

hello!! I very recently got into tobiizu and I adore your drawings! I just got the fantasy zine last week and was so happy to see those precious boys! For this tobiizu newbie looking to explore the fandom a little more, do you have any favorite fics or authors? And do you know if there are any tobiizu events going on this year?

Hello, thank you and welcome! 💕

(gosh, I haven't posted the fantasy zine art yet)

I am admittedly really out of touch on the latest tobiizu on AO3. But I CAN shamelessly plug the blogs of writers whose work I enjoyed over the years. List includes but definitely is not limited to:

@good-grievance (who wrote the poem that went with my art in the zine! my personal favorite of theirs is Solemates, but they write an incredibly wide range of AUs. Just go see.)

@silverutahraptor (Thanks (I still hate you) - the funniest bitey-est sassiest Izuna. Definitely check out all of their Izuna writings)

@denialcity (For Adoration Grow, read in tumblr on BROWSER so that the chronological ordering works properly; this one has moments so memorable I HAD to draw some of them)

@writhingbeneathyou (Footprints in the Snow - difficult to choose ONE from WBY's work. Go see the rest.)

@hashiramashonkers (can't seem to shut my eyes - another case of I can't possibly pick. just click, read, and click again and read more)

@domoz (So It Grows is in very recent memory from a gift exchange and I adore it very much)

@silver-studios (Gravity of Tempered Grace, incredible time travel fix-it, go read it immediately if you haven't already)

Consider this a starting point? Check out their other stuff, too. Feed them comments along the way!

[pixelatedraindrops]

Overindulgence on Valentine's Day Chocolate~ 🍫💦

This was a very silly little idea I had in my head for Valentine's Day. It was originally going to just be a one-shot fanfiction I write but you should all know by now... xD

I don't know the definition of a one-shot fanfiction

My first ever stomach issue related themed sickfic~ :3

Here is the story (bc archive direct link doesn't wanna work)

Now as for the art, it's pretty self explanatory; our favorite silly little CEO received a lot of appreciation chocolate from some of the citizens of Kanai Ward. Touched by the gesture and finally receiving love reciprocated by the city he loved so much, he didn't leave a single sweet treat given to him untouched or uneaten.

This would later lead to disaster ;w;

Thankfully Yuma is there to lend him a helping hand :3

Spoilers for the Story's Outcome below~ (another drawing +further rambling as always lol I always say too much haha... ^^;)

The best home remedy for an tummy ache is a good tummy rub 🩷

Okay, so I was honestly wanting to write a story like this for a while but was incredibly shy about it... Because upset tummy rubs lowkey are another very small guilty pleasure of mine. When a person gets an upset stomach from either being sick or from overeating, I personally find it to be a very comforting, touching and even at times very intimate gesture. (I even remember trying it myself to help a friend of mine w gastritis in highschool)

Sadly, I felt very shy and even embarrassed to want to try and write something like this, let alone draw it out... Tummy rubs are unfortunately often seen as kinks or are fetishized by other people so it's often seen as weird to the public... So it made me feel nervous to even share this story and art. I did have lots of fun drawing it, but I'm saying it right now, I do NOT fetishize this okay? ><;

(not trying to kink shame, its just not my intention here is all ;w;)

In fact; abdominal massages (a.k.a tummy rubs) are actually a real medical procedure to recover the pressure in one's stomach.

The pose of this art was incredibly difficult to draw but I am fairly happy with the way it came out. Yuma looks either doting or affectionate towards Makoto and Makoto looks perfectly relaxed laying in his lap c: Yuma politely took his shoes off but Makoto is the type to leave his shoes on even when he’s laying on furniture (we saw it in ch4 twice lol) They're such cuties, I love them so much💕 (I even added a kitty to convince myself that its cute and not weird... ;w;)

Truth be told, this idea was actually semi-inspired by a little doodle that @cochidinh drew on X. It made me think that if Makoto received valentines from the people of Kanai Ward, would he eat all of them?

And thus this story was born c: (its meant to be silly so please try not to take it too seriously... ;w; They may seem OOC here, I did my best but this is my first time ever writing a story like this so I might be rusty... ;w;)

EXTRA BONUS: Kitty Makoto 🐱

Fun Fact: Did you know that cats only allow belly rubs from a person they trust? :3c I think Makoto is very cat-like tbh haha~

Anyway Happy Valentines Day🩷

Don't eat too much chocolate now! 💦

[avonne-writes]

Finally finishing this bingo of mine for the @mota-collab Mota 1st Birthday event! It took me longer than expected due to personal issues, but I'm so glad I was able to finish it and share my appreciation for fanwork that I love.

east side of sorrow (young vets au) by @bcolfanfic - a heartbreaking and difficult topic explored with so much care and empathy in this fic. John's pain, as well as Gale's steadfast love for him, always bring tears to my eyes.

major john egan, at your service. by @johnbottoms - NSFW Buck x Bucky x Marge art (my OT3 😍). One of the hottest Mota drawings I've seen, oh my God. The pose, their bodies and expressions, everything about it is hot and perfectly fitting for the characters. I would love to see more art of these three!

Crosby art by @eternallytired17 - I think this is a really lovely portrait! It takes a special skill to draw realistic portraits, even just a few lines off and the person would look completely unrecognizable, but eternallytired17 pulled this off super well. I loved the eyes here in particular. 🩷

Only You Can Cool My Desire by @johnslittlespoon - super hot smut fic that can be appreciated as a standalone, but it's also a part of a long AU, the Tough And Sweet verse. I really enjoyed reading the dynamic between John and Gale, the temperature play and the description of the heatwave. I could feel the touch of summer! 🌞

before you say 'cut', wait five more seconds by @irregularcollapse - a beautiful comfort fic. (I already recced the podfic by @angelfruittree associated with it here) John and Gale as actors was a really entertaining premise. The characters were well-written and interesting, and Gale’s POV was a joy to read. I loved the way the UST built between John and Gale, and then how natural it felt when they finally got together. Their first kiss was my favourite part.

Bucky meets Gale by @onyxsboxes - Ame's sweet, lovely kitty Gale verse. 🥹 I love cats, so the premise of this one got me hooked from the get-go. This is the first part of the series, and it's very sweet and comforting. John's feeling down but his new feline friend comforts him. A nice read on a rainy or cold day.

John and Gale gifset by @bennydemarco - this is so beautiful and heartbreaking and healing and poetic at the same time! 😭 The text font looks great, the scenes were perfectly chosen for the quote, and of course the most brilliant part is how the colours fade, then come back, reflecting the pain of parting and the joy of reunion.

penny drop by @drylite - this made me feral! Thick Bucky is so hot in this fic, and the way Gale yearns for him and desires him makes the flames of this fic burn all the brighter. The tender ending was the cherry on top for me, there was so much feeling in it. An instant favourite of mine.

Curt art by @kylaym - when I saw the angel meme, I thought of Curt immediately 💖😇 This is such a sweet portrait of him, I really like it. The artist has a unique and nostalgic style, I recommend all their art. I love that they have so many drawings of side characters as well.

Thank you to all the creators who share their talent with us in our small fandom!

[blackseakraft]

TY FOR THE TAG!! @leapingbadger

What's the origin of your blog title? I like to write phrases and nice sounding things in my sketchbook while I draw in case I want to use them for something later. Black Sea Foam was one of them. It doesn't mean anything, I just like the way it sounds.

OTP(s) + Shipname: I don't engage in shipping much, but I suppose it's TechPhee since I've actually drawn them being cute together multiple times.

Favorite color: BRIGHT Fuschia, a little on the purple side. It reminds me of the Dark Crystal.

Favorite game: Red Dead Redemption TWOOO will probably be my favorite game forever.

Song stuck in your head: Heat Waves by Glass Animals

Weirdest habit/trait? I HATE people touching my fingernails, I compulsively press down on them because they're just really sensitive I guess. I've never ever gotten a manicure for this reason. I've worn press on nails one time and it drove me INSANE I couldn't think about anything else. I tried to tough it out for two more days but it never got better. Weirdly though, when I lose chunks of my fingernails from sports and stuff I don't really care.

Hobbies: Drawing, painting, knitting, writing, skijoring, bikejoring, hiking, downhill skiing, mountain biking (planning on finally getting a real bike this summer), Model/Figure/Mini painting, Dungeons & Dragons (I'm a PC in one game and a DM in another and I couldn't be more pleased at the moment), Reading, Lego (when I want to treat myself), a little bit of fishing and crabbing but I suck at it.

If you work, what's your profession? I am a Fisheries Biologist! Well I'm technically a Science Technician, but biologist gets the point across easier. I'm working up to being a biologist. I mostly work in the field, walking or floating rivers looking for salmon and sending the data to my bosses who use it for managing fisheries. I keep getting hurt though so I'm looking for a new job with less physical labor at the moment.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? A homesteader/artisan. My dream is to have some property and be mostly self-sufficient, have a ton of animals, and use art and crafting for supplemental income. Might have to wait for retirement, but I still love my job now.

Something you're good at: I'm very good at learning by watching, or reverse engineering something to figure out how it works. I feel like my brain lends itself well to engineering-type thinking because it is easy for me to picture structures in 3d and move them around in my brain. It helps a lot with art, sculpting, and animation. I think drawing representatively since I was a young child really developed this part of my brain.

Something you're bad at: Understanding abstract concepts like physics or advanced finances (do not ask me what anything more complicated than a loan is, I will cry).

Something you love: I LOVE my new weighted blanket. I've never owned one before, but it really helped me relax while I was recovering from a concussion last week lol. My dog loves it too.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: The connections between Spirituality, Nature, and Art. I have a few friends who I engage in this topic with and we will go on for HOURS. I always feel so thankful afterward.

Something you hate: When someone leaves their water bottle loose in my car and it rolls around while I'm driving >:0

Something you collect: I collect driftwood with holes in it! Usually comes from thick pieces of outer wood that grew around a branch and somehow came off the tree with the hole intact. I LOVE THAT SHIT.

Something you forget: Well if I could remember what it was I'd tell you.

What's your love language? QUALITY TIME!!! Sharing experiences especially when they involve movement, or body doubling. LOVE IT.

Favorite movie/show: My favorite movie is Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal.

Favorite food: AAA damn idk. Anything savory. I am so down bad for fishy stuff recently, like dried squid and clams. I suppose I'll just say seafood in general.

Favorite animal: Besides the obvious (dogs and horses) my favorite animal is a Reindeer/Caribou!

What were you like as a child? Feral. I used to pretend i was some kind of animal at all times, got in to a lot of trouble at stores for doing things like spitting on the windows and running around. Absolutely should have been tested for ADHD at a younger age.

Favorite subject at school? Art is the obvious one. I also loved science, which is also sort of obvious.

Least favorite subject: In college I really struggled with Physics and Economics.

What's your best character trait? I am very patient. I think because the rest of my family is extremely impatient, I went the other direction. It contributes hugely to my mental health and makes creating things extremely fun. On the other hand, I tend to not stand up for myself when I should. It's hard for me to recognize when it's appropriate to stop being patient.

What's your worst character trait? Emotional sensitivity. It's my greatest weakness and strength. Confrontation of any kind makes me freak out, it's hard to know what battles to pick, and I usually choose the wrong ones. It has a lot of benefits too though! I think intuition and sensitivity go hand and hand, it helps a lot with dog training. I think it makes animals intuitively drawn to you as well.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I'd make my dog less anxious and reactive. He's doing great and is happy and fulfilled, but I will never be able to fully trust him outside of our comfort zone. It's a constant anxiety I have to live with, but working with trainers (and therapy for myself lol) has helped so much and I have so many tools to help both of us.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Jim Henson!!

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@eobe @spicy-tomato-sauce @disaster-by-chance @paperback-rascal @ghostymarni and YOU IF YOU BOTHERED TO READ THIS

I tagged every moot for THIS blog, there are too many on my main lol

Get to know your mutuals!

What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad

Favorite color: Red!

Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!

Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC

Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol

Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!

If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.

Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.

Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas

Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.

Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha

Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately

What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service

Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha

Favorite food: Sushi!

Favorite animal: Cats!

What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do

Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class

Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol

What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others

What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer

ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

SO LIKE. HHHHHHH?????

SORRY FOR THE AMOUNT OF YELLING THAT IS ABOUT TO FLOOD OUT FROM ME BUT I CANNOT- I SIMPLY. I-

CAN YOU TELL???? IM GOING MAD. IM GOING INSANE. SIMPLY LOSING IT. PURELY UNFATHOMABLE SCREECHING FROM THE PASTRY THAT IS IN MY BRAIN, IT HAS TURNED TO MUSH.

FIRSTLY -> SHINYA IS SO PRETTY, THANK YOU BONES FOR DOING HIM JUSTICE

SECONDLY -> MY BOYS ARE ON SCREEN. THEYRE HERE. THEYRE ANIMATED.

THIRDLY -> EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

The way he is looking at him. FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.

THE WAY THEYRE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER HELLO???? THE SOFTNESS?????? IM LOSING MY SHIT???????? SHINYAS SMILE????????? head in hands my head is in my hands

THEY ADDED A PANEL, I REPEAT THEY ADDED ONE. look at them......look at how small and adorable they are- LOOK AT SHINYAS SMILE????? HES SO HAPPY!!!!! HIS SCARF IS RED!!!!!

just look at these idiots doing surgery on the battlefield. just two guys, performing heart surgery, as you do. Jeanist isnt taking his eyes off of shinya because he knows what hes doing without eVEN HAVING TO LOOK

[bacchuschucklefuck]

typical tavern scene

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sublime Equine.

[First] Prev <–-> Next