#dance flyer design

[389]

Ian Miller Graphic Design

[arcadebroke]

[way2uchuu]

Wavedash + Hudson Mohawke + Friends poster, 2024

[fruitiermetrostation]

High Kick Stock Illustrations

[possible-streetwear]

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instagram.com/adware1k 

[irponworks]

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Poster Party Illustration

[artbymadolfd]

Broken Spiderman Spiderman | Madolf D | 2023

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Prompt Idea Source: Briefz.Biz Made with Canva

[demmyfuji]

[389]

by koln studio

[way2uchuu]

Muzik Magazine, July 2001

[fruitiermetrostation]

Dance Background Stock Vector Illustration

[mearchy]

The clones with drugs and alcohol - HCs

In no particular order. Obviously TW for mature themes.

REX:

Thinks of himself as a very responsible drinker, only occasionally indulges and usually when talked into it by his brothers.

Won't touch spice or any other drugs.

Able to be coaxed into shenanigans SO easily when drunk

Therefore his brothers have IMMENSE motivation to get him drunk when they want to pull Nonsense

Can also be a very sad drunk, I think. Please give him hugs.

Can hold his liquor... fine. His tolerance isn't great because he doesn't drink often but he's got engineered supersoldier metabolism so he holds up alright, to his relief.

CODY:

Who do you think Rex got his responsible drinking and drug habits from?

Except Cody is the kind of mf who learned through EXPERIENCE.

His batchmates have stories about teenage drunk Cody that they are sworn to secrecy about on pain of death.

Drunk Cody is TWICE as ready to throw down and is five times LESS inhibited about bodily tackling someone with no regard for his own safety.

Cody can probably hold his liquor but wouldn't it be so funny if he couldn't. Marshall Commander two-sheets-to-the-wind-from-four-glasses-of-wine.

WOLFFE:

He's the guy who will make direct, unwavering eye contact (ha. just the one.) with you across the table as you're both taking a sip from your drinks and suddenly you're in a competition for who can keep chugging their drink until the whole thing is empty and he's so scary how is he DOING that-

Wolffe has a naturally competitive and snippy personality but I do actually think he softens more around the edges with a few drinks in his system.

Not in a sloppy way just smiling a little more and being more affectionate.

Doesn't like or trust any substances that aren't well known to him, won't touch anything other than alcohol.

FIVES:

Sloppy, loud, kind of peevish drunk. All the shit that's always simmering under his skin has an excuse to come out.

“Listen, man. We need to start a revolution. Why hasn't someone bombed the Senat- oh, they have? Shit, can I be in on that?”

Will drop space acid or smoke space weed but only if Echo does. And Echo is smart enough to know that the paranoia Fives gets when he smokes weed is not worth it.

Type of guy to run across some random person in the desert and take psychedelics with them and go on an intense spiritual journey where he communes with dead gods. And then he shows back up at camp a couple hours later having achieved six new levels of enlightenment looking none the worse for wear. Only ever tells three people about this.

ECHO:

Echo is the kind of guy to have an Excel spreadsheet of dosages so he can bake the world's most precisely engineered edibles.

It doesn't work anyway because Fives keeps sticking his fingers in the batter and now the damn ratio is slightly off, why would you do that-

Also cannot keep a secret for the absolute life of him so he cannot pretend to be sober and he must be kept contained while drinking/stoned illicitly.

Maybe a very loving drunk. Or very sad. I'm not sure.

HARDCASE:

You already know he's in the club taking shots dancing on tabletops with his shirt off.

Life of the party, BUT he also doesn't mind being the designated driver. Flyer? Designated sober friend.

Type of guy to cheerily carry his drunk, passed out besties home and dump them into bed.

He's actually an explosives expert not just an enthusiast and he’s kind of a genius and everyone forgets that until he gets drunk and starts writing the equations to create insane explosive devices on his napkin while enthusiastically explaining it to his friends.

Very high alcohol tolerance.

GREGOR:

This man dresses like he's from Bangor Maine. I just know he was on that void planet smoking wild amounts of weed, and wearing Birkenstocks and a Patagonia puffer vest over a flannel shirt while doing it.

Thinks alcohol is a crutch.

FOX:

World's most miserable drunk.

But also can act really embarrassingly flamboyant so he stays away from alcohol at all costs.

Heh... I should kill my boss heh... wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if ... haha if I just walked into his office with a grenade right now and pulled the pin... fine, fiiine, yes, stop yelling at me. I would neeever leave Thorn with that much paperwork.

Zero tolerance, complete lightweight, doesn't matter how often he drinks. Can't hold his liquor for shit.

DOOM:

He either does mind-boggling amounts of coke or he's completely 100% straight edge and always has been. Don't ask me how I know this.

BLY:

He's so normal about alcohol I bet.

But he is giggling and kicking his feet and twirling his hair while talking to his brothers about Aayla and about the adventures of his men.

Absolutely incorrigible gossip.

Not braver after a few drinks just more prone to melting into a puddle.

Tried space MDMA once (spice?) just to say he did and hated it.

Uhhh if I do a part two it will include the bad batch and some other clones I missed.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Chasing Shadows

★ PAIRING: Frat!Jeno x Goth!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 1K

★ GENRE(S): Strangers to ???

☆ SUMMARY: You meet a lost frat boy at a rave, and even though your interaction is brief, you leave a strong impression on him. Your playful banter and mysterious smile spark his interest.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking.

☆★ NOTES: This one is for my fellow alternative nctizens. Gotta get some representation in there for us. Feedback appretatied!

You loved your platform boots, but they made it incredibly challenging to traverse the woods. You almost twisted your ankle a few times while searching for the party deeper among the trees. Raves were your escape—you relished losing yourself in the music and dancing the night away. However, reaching some of those remote locations could be an ordeal. Tonight's rave was nestled in the heart of the forest, and with every step, the choice of wearing your Demonia boots was beginning to feel like a mistake. Just as you were starting to lose hope, you caught sight of the twinkling lights strung between the trees, guiding you toward the designated dance floor and DJ booth.

You were supposed to meet a few friends here, but they hadn’t arrived yet. Still, you were perfectly content dancing alone while waiting for them. A little tipsy, you lost yourself in the rhythm, until you lost your breath. Your drunken mind urged you to explore the area. You anticipated encountering a few oddities in the middle of the woods, but what you stumbled upon in a small clearing not too far from the dance floor was the strangest sight you had ever seen.

In the midst of the pulsating beats and swirling lights of the rave, you stumbled upon a most peculiar sight: a frat boy, looking completely out of place. You raised an eyebrow, certain those guys wouldn't dare be caught dead in the “weird” crowd.

“You lost?” you asked with a smirk.

He looked up from his phone, shuffling nervously as if the forest floor might swallow him whole. “No, I’m certain it’s around here. I’m looking for a party.”

“Well, there’s a rave deeper in the woods,” you said, stepping closer, your curiosity piqued. “But it doesn’t seem like that’s what you’re after.”

He hesitated, glancing back at the trees as if they might whisper the answer. “Hmm, that could be it? I don’t know; my brothers sent me this location… said it was supposed to be a frat party.”

“So, you’re lost,” you declared with a hint of mischief in your voice. You took another step closer, studying him with intrigued eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Jeno,” he replied, a mixture of desperation and hope flashing across his face.

The first thing you noticed was how strikingly handsome he was, but there was something else about him that caught your eye—how… normal he looked? "Normal" wasn't quite the right word, as he certainly surpassed any conventional level of attractiveness. Yet Jeno definitely didn’t fit into your crowd. He was the epitome of a textbook frat boy, and it was almost jarring to see him here among the eclectic chaos of the rave.

Jeno wasn’t your type at all. You were drawn to the kind of guys who carried an intriguing emptiness in their gaze, a flicker of something dark swirling just beneath the surface. Jeno was the complete opposite of that. He looked like a golden retriever—innocent and eager, full of boundless energy—but for some inexplicable reason, you felt a magnetic pull, an itch to reach out and play with this unexpectedly charming puppy.

“Can I see the flyer?” you ask, and he eagerly thrusts his phone in your direction. As you scan it, your brow furrows. “This says Friday… today’s Saturday.” You meet his gaze, the truth dawning on him. “I think you missed it.”

The expression that washes over his face is priceless, a mix of shock and disbelief, and you have to stifle a laugh. Poor guy, you think—he's had enough misfortune for one night; the last thing you want is to laugh in his face.

He exhales a sigh of disappointment, his shoulders drooping for a moment before he lights up again. “But there’s a party tonight, right? Might as well go!”

“Well, sorry if this sounds rude,” you say, eyeing his frat boy attire that looks like a glaring neon sign in the dark sea of heavy silver jewelry and smudged eyeliner around you, “but this doesn’t exactly look like your kind of scene.” You raise an eyebrow, amused by the stark contrast he presents amidst the crowd

“Beer is beer,” he shrugs, that easy grin still plastered on his face. “Plus, you guys are cool. I really like your makeup.” His compliment feels genuine, and despite the ongoing chaos of the party around you, his enthusiasm softens the edges of the night.

He was sweet.

You take a moment to appreciate the contrast between his sunny disposition and the heavy, ghoulish makeup you’ve gone for tonight. With your lips tinted black, you can't help but return his smile, the boldness of your look amplifying the brightness of your teeth. “I could do yours sometime,” you flirt, the words rolling off your tongue with an unexpected confidence.

“I really think the black lipstick would look good on me,” Jeno comments, that smirk never leaving his face. He’s either brave or wildly oblivious, but the way he leans into the banter makes your heart flutter.

“You think so? Only one way to find out,” you tease, letting a playful lilt escape your voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead of stepping back, he crowds a little closer, closing the distance between you two. He leans down, his eyes locking onto yours with surprising intensity. “Right here,” he says, pointing to his cheek, as if he's inviting you to paint your work of art on him.

A spark ignites between you, an unexpected thrill bubbling beneath the surface, and you can’t help but smile wider. “Alright, but you have to promise me you’ll rock it,” you reply.

You smile and gently cup his face with both hands, feeling a thrill course through you as you lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek. Pulling back slightly to admire your handiwork, you can’t help but agree—your black lipstick looks stunning against his skin.

With a playful glint in your eye, you lean in again and give him a quick peck on the lips, leaving your mark there as well. You pull back and watch as he chases your lips; a wicked smile spreads across your face at the sight of him.

“Hmm… I’m not sure it really suits you,” you tease, using your thumb to smudge the imprint you left on his lips, giving them a slightly tousled, used look.

Finally, you let him go and take a step back, reveling in the way he stands there, utterly stunned.

“Where are you going?” he calls out, his voice cutting through the pulsating bass of the party as he watches your retreating figure.

“I’m waiting on my friends; I need to head back,” you reply, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his curiosity evident as you walk away.

“I'll see you around,” you call back, a mysterious smile playing on your lips, leaving him intrigued as you blend back into the lively throng of the party.

[irponworks]

https://www.instagram.com/p/BuDTCJRgRdv/

Poster Graphic Visual: Space Tribe