#brief box

[art-by-poindexter]

Brand packaging mock-ups for an established alcoholic drink company that is venturing into non-alcoholic beverages. The four values of Mixed Up Drinks Co. are "Great times. Good people. Always Share. Better Together."

The product design is focused on bold colors, geometric lines and shapes, and simple patterns.

This digital design brief was found on the BRIEFBOX, where artists can find design prompts to hone their skills and expand their portfolios.

Programs Used: Adobe Photoshop; Adobe Illustrator (Creative Cloud)

Fonts: Righteous, Bebas Neue (Google Fonts)

[himboculture2]

[fksexymen]

[violentlydefending]

[hotboxerdude]

[winke1]

[trumanblacks]

[abby-howard]

You have to look at these

[gh-0-stcup]

Gay men have husbands. Gay men get abused and pine for their cheating lovers. Fathers grieve for their lost children the same way mothers do.

If you have the urge to analyze queer relationships depicted in media under a lens of "who's the woman and who's the man" - maybe that's something you should think about taking a closer look at.

If it's about the roles and archetypes ascribed to women in media, I'd like to propose a question. What roles do queer people have to inhabit? What are our archetypes with regards to our relationships with our children or our spouses?

Queer families have been so marginalized and underexplored in media that I honestly don't know that we have any. Does rooting everything back to man/woman/traditional heterosexual dynamic not in some ways prevent those from forming?

If everything including actual queer relationships fall into traditional heterosexual standards - what is left for queer people? Why do these discussions continually assert that our relationships are metaphorically straight?

[himboculture2]

[olinblogin]

Hey! :D

I'm not sure if you take any requests or not so feel free to ignore if not.

But can you maybe do like Platonic Yandere Strawhats with Fem!Y/n?

YES ABSOLUTELY RAGHHHHHHH!!!

(WARNINGS; EXTREMELY SHORT, BROEF MENTIONS OF DEATH)

A day just like any other on the Thousand Sunny,

Bright, warm; a bit loud from your fellow crew mates, but who were you to complain.

“[Y/N], come play with us! We need another player for hide and seek!” Chopper bounced up and down as he said that, you smiled and nodded. “I’m coming Tony, don’t worry.” You smiled.

When Luffy had declared he’d recruited you, you watched him beat down everyone with his fist who would try to get in his way to do so. He was so determined to be your friend, as was everyone else.

You’d witness first hand that they would all commit a massacre in your name. Even Nico Robin, the most calm, collected, and understanding of the crew would do so.

But you felt comfortable with that. It made you feel like you’re eye worth something.

A day just like any other on the Thousand Sunny,

Where you were safe at home.

[musubiki]

The one day Mochi is cocky enough to say he’s not strong enough to bench her and then he DOES. Both of them are thinking about ███████████████ but will never admit it.

absolutely killer that at multiple points both of them were thinking about it but neither of them do anything about it

[aeondeug]

so i learned that battletech has catgirls (apparently canon with the ttrpg mutations table or something??) so my super cool oc is one of those feral 80s anime catgirls but like butch and she's half naked at all times because i do not fuck with this new fangled coolant vests mean mechwarriors can wear clothes now shit.

[braisedhoney]

[SCENARIO CONTINUED FROM HERE.]

You select the second oldest of the available files. An observation log — COLONY keeps these, or so you assume. He never leaves commentary or notes to organize them. He probably just memorizes them instead. The terminal beeps beneath your fingertips, every click practically a gunshot in the quiet room. Thanks to your pass you are technically permitted to be here by the system — but you know better. There are security measures here that were not to be violated. If you are discovered, if THIS is discovered, you would likely be in trouble. The screen loads. Text fills the margins. After a moment, you realize that it is not just a file; it’s a transcript and an audio sample. There’s also a small attachment of some kind, likely an image. You play the audio.

[LOADING. . . (A short period of complete silence. Then, rustling as footsteps approach, and the familiar whir of a door. A familiar voice fades in with them.) “… I told you, it isn’t going to work.” “So you’ve said, Captain.” (The door whirs again. Locks.) “Please don’t call me that. Everyone keeps calling me that. Really I mean, I don’t even know what to do with…” (The sound of movement. Footsteps, slightly heavier but more measured than the first. The sound of something opening with a mechanical hiss — a containment unit?) (A quiet sigh. It’s barely audible.) “That… isn’t what I think. Right? Another one?” (A chuckle.) “Don’t sound so unenthusiastic. It’s terrible for morale.” “Le—“ “Just put them on, won’t you? It can’t hurt. One more trial.” “… Fine! Fine.” (The footsteps draw closer.) “Good. Now grab my hand.” (A clang, like somebody knocked into something.) “No.” “Trust me.” (Rapidly receding footsteps joined by another set.) “No!��(A loud bang, like a fist slamming against metal. The footsteps stop.) “No.” “It’ll be fine.” “You don’t know that.” “I’m right.” “This isn’t the answer. It isn’t going to — it’ll never be the answer, Leander, and I don’t even know what it — you know you can’t, right? Can’t come back? Doing this won’t let you see her agai——!“ “Captain.” (Silence.) “… shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” “Prove it.” ”Leander, please.” “Grab my hand. This will work.” “…” “I swear.” (The seconds tick by. Then.) “You...” (Another chuckle. Warmer in tone.) “Didn’t I say I would do it? Didn’t I promise?” (Laughter. Loud, nearly hysterical laughter interrupts him. It’s boisterous, disruptive.) “You did! You did, you… you magnificent bastard, you really found a way to———“] The audio ends. You stare at the screen. No matter how long you look at it, the text does not continue, the audio file does not extend. All that remains is a single attachment. Frustration makes your jaw tense, but you don’t have time to waste being angry. You’re running out the clock as it is. You click it. [LOADING. . .]

And then the screen goes dark. No. Not just the screen — the whole room blacks out. Every terminal flickers off, every bulb extinguishes. For a moment, there is total, unfamiliar silence. Even the faint electric buzzing that comes with electronics is gone. You are completely alone. You turn, grasping blindly at the records pass, the imprint of the screen still on your eyes. You stumble for the door, and to your surprise the pass blinks green, the only light left in the room. It opens and you shove your way through into the hall — Only to slam into a barrier. You look around. There is no hallway. Of all times for the paths to shift… The room you are in is tiny. The door behind you closes, and there is no scanner on your side, nor a handle. It is completely featureless. There is no way to open it. You call for COLONY. There is no answer. You call for the Captain. There is no answer. You call for help. You call for help. You call. You call. you. c a l l. . . . . . . . . . [YOU CANNOT BE TRUSTED.] [. . . ] [THE CAPTAIN WILL LOOK FOR YOU.] [. . .] [BUT THE CAPTAIN WILL NOT FIND YOU.] [ . . . ] [I AM SORRY.] [I AM SURE THAT MEANS LITTLE. BUT I AM.] [CURIOSITY IS NOT A TERRIBLE THING.] [BUT I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT HUMANS QUITE LIKED CATS.] [. . .] [A POOR JOKE.] [I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF IT WAS WORTH IT.] [I DOUBT IT.] [BUT I DO HOPE.]

(Scenario End. Ending: “Status Quo”.)

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I just got an air fryer for the first time and I know nothing about it! Do you have any advice/recipes/warnings/things I should know?