#polish cosplayer

[xxyunosiaqxx]

AIZAWA COSPLAY?!! NO WAYYY (she/her)

[polycraftory]

Nott the Brave Cosplay WIP

Today we did our body paint & tattoo test for Nott the Brave from Campaign 2 of Critical Role, so we decided to take some pictures with our current progress since it's really coming together! This is the transition period between levels 10 and 11, when she's still a goblin but got the charisma boost face tattoo.

Things still left to do: crop the jacket to the waist, sew bandages onto the left leg, finish sewing the edge of the belt, and finish constructing the flower crown. We are still experimenting with the ear magnets to see what the most comfortable system under the wig will be.

We've made or modified pretty much everything here! Have a question about how to do some aspect of this cosplay? Let us know! We plan to make more tutorials after NYCC next week.

[vmartynav]

Will you gamble with me? ♠️♥️

[yume-chiyo]

Every time I remember that one game zeno remake got popular lately I remember that I'm a gatekeeper

Bc jesus fuckin Christ I was a huge fan of this game BEFORE it got popular. And i got called the biggest zeno remake fan in my country THREE times. THREE FUCKIN TIMES!!!

[dixiaaa]

''Think of Me'' live! I will be happy with every likes and shares! <3

I worked so hard on my costumes and practice my voice. <3

Thank you!

[mihai-florescu]

I always forget bsd is not just a thing eastern european weebs like. It's like, really popular everywhere right?

[nanamikimcosplay]

"Because I wished for everyone to live, I did everything I could"

📸 @miszka_photo (ig)

[multidimensionbb]

The Great MCYT WIP Purge 2024: Info Post!

EVENT DETAILS ARE HERE!

For this event, artists of all mediums and stripes (cosplayers, artists, writers--anyone!) are encouraged to pick up a WIP, whether half-finished and shared, just a random Discord DM to a friend, or 95% done in your Google Docs, and finish it to your desired finish level! Those who choose to battle their creative demons will take up the mantle of a WIP warrior (warrior for short) in the event. Only one WIP will be allowed per person, due to the structuring of the event, but you are encouraged to work on other WIPs if you finish yours early and are feeling it!

If you do not wish to fight on the front lines, keep reading, because we still have desperate need of you! Those who do not wish to take up arms can still help from the sidelines as our amazing support roles. There will be three main kinds of support roles: doodlers (who are capable of sketching motivational doodles), betas (those who check over work to polish it; though they are usually readers, in this event, they may also check over the quality of other mediums if asked!), and duckies (those who help the warriors problem solve their way around creative blocks with cooperative brainstorming sessions). Any supporter may sign up as multiple of these roles for one person--sign up for whatever you're comfortable and capable of helping out with!

Warriors and supporters will be paired in teams of two based on an anonymous summary of the warrior's work. If a warrior wishes to fight solo, they can simply let a mod know, and if they already have a supporter in mind, they can also let a mod know! We would like to keep teams in pairs, if possible, but we can make exceptions if a warrior's team is pre-selected.

A participant may also choose to sign up as a warrior and a supporter. Please be mindful of your workload if you do this, however--we don't want you to burn out!

EVENT RULES:

If you need to drop the event, please let a mod know right away! No shame at all, we just want communication!

13+ please, to comply with Discord's TOS.

You must have a Discord account to participate, as the vast majority of this event will be hosted there!

No E-Rated fics! Sorry! If you are concerned about your WIP crossing the line, please DM a mod during the idea finalization phase of the event.

Shipping is permitted for this event; however, we request that you keep ship-related discussion and art to the specific keyed Discord category, to respect other participant's personal preferences!

Conversely, no ship-related harassment will be tolerated. Do not be surprised when an event that allows shipping has shipping in it and do not argue with others about their ship preferences. Mods will not be censoring projects based on relationships or content as long as those projects follow our other rules.

WIPs must be MCYT-related! Any corner of MCYT will do--we're not picky (this is just to make teaming easier than a multifandom event, to be quite honest).

If you need any clarification or elaboration, please check our multidimensional asks tag to see if the question has been answered; if it hasn't, feel free to shoot us an ask or an individual DM!

To see the event timeline, look here!

To meet the mods, look here!

To sign up, look here!

[hurriane23456]

Through Another’s Eyes

Elliot Bennett had always thought his job was peculiar, to say the least. He worked at Mimic Studio, a company renowned for its hyper-realistic masks. These weren’t the kind of masks you’d find at a costume shop; they were masterpieces, crafted with such precision that they transformed the wearer entirely. Each came with a full outfit, contact lenses to match the eye color, and shoes to complete the look. Mimic catered to movie studios, high-end cosplayers, and a few private clients who didn’t explain why they needed to look like someone else.

Elliot was a junior marketing intern, responsible for social media posts. He wasn’t an artist; and never got close to the merchandise. That evening, he found himself alone at the studio, the whirring machines and half-finished molds silent around him. It was rare for him to have the space to himself, and as he walked into the Mask Room, he couldn’t help but feel the pull of curiosity.

The Mask Room was where the completed works were displayed—rows and rows of lifelike faces suspended on mannequin heads. The designs ranged from average-looking men to strikingly handsome models. The outfits accompanying them hung nearby, tailored to perfection. Elliot’s eyes landed on a mask he’d never seen before: a rugged, stubbled face with piercing blue eyes and a square jaw. The tag read: "Jason – Outdoorsman."

He hesitated but finally gave in, locking the door to ensure no one walked in on him.

Elliot unhooked the mask and carried it to the changing area. The accompanying outfit was folded neatly beside it: a flannel shirt, distressed jeans, and brown hiking boots. His fingers tingled with excitement and nerves as he stripped out of his work clothes, standing in just his socks before pulling on the jeans. They fit snugly, hugging his legs in a way that made him glance at himself in the full-length mirror.

The flannel shirt was next—soft, perfectly worn in, and rolled up at the cuffs. He slipped on the boots, their weight and rugged soles giving him the impression he’d just come back from a mountain hike.

Now for the mask.

Elliot picked it up, marveling at the detail: the faint freckles across the nose, the hint of crow’s feet at the corners of the eyes. He stretched it gently, noticing how pliable yet durable the material felt, before slipping it over his head. The inside was cool against his skin, and he adjusted the edges until they blended perfectly with his neck.

When he looked in the mirror, he gasped. Jason the Outdoorsman stared back at him. Elliot popped in the blue contact lenses, completing the transformation. His reflection didn’t just look like someone else—it felt like someone else. He smirked, tilting his head, running a hand over the stubble that felt impossibly real.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. He rolled his shoulders, suddenly feeling like he could chop wood or trek through a forest.

He could’ve stopped there, but the thrill was addictive. Elliot peeled off the mask reluctantly, placed it back on its stand, and scanned the shelves for his next choice. His eyes landed on "Mason – Business Tycoon."

The outfit was a three-piece suit: charcoal gray with a crisp white shirt, a silk tie, and polished black dress shoes. Elliot stripped down again, feeling a bit silly standing in his boxers in the sterile studio, but excitement overpowered his hesitation.

The suit fit him like a glove, the fabric smooth and expensive against his skin. He adjusted the tie, the Windsor knot sitting perfectly at his throat. The shoes, shiny enough to see his reflection, clicked satisfyingly on the tiled floor.

Mason’s mask was next. It had a clean-shaven jaw, slightly tanned skin, and sharp cheekbones. Once he slipped it on, he inserted the hazel contact lenses and stared at himself.

He looked powerful. Confident. Like a man who owned skyscrapers and never took no for an answer. He straightened his tie in the mirror and let out a low laugh.

“What’s my next big deal?” he joked to himself, his voice deep and commanding.

By now, Elliot was fully immersed in the game. He pulled Mason off, carefully reassembling the set, and reached for something more daring. His hand hovered over a mask labeled "Ryan – Rock Star."

The outfit was bold: ripped black jeans, a leather jacket, a fitted black T-shirt, and combat boots. There were even accessories—silver rings, a chain necklace, and sunglasses.

Slipping into the clothes felt like stepping into a different world. The leather jacket was buttery soft, the rings cool against his fingers. He placed the sunglasses on top of his head, letting them rest in his tousled brown wig—the mask came with hair this time, styled in perfectly disheveled waves.

Ryan’s face had a roguish smirk, a faint scar above his eyebrow, and piercing green eyes. Once he had the mask on, Elliot completed the look with the green lenses and stepped back.

He didn’t just look like a rock star. He felt like one. He struck a pose, pretending to hold a guitar, and laughed.

“This is insane,” he muttered, his voice raspy and full of swagger.

Elliot was riding a high. Each transformation was more thrilling than the last. He could feel the studio’s silence around him, but it only heightened the sense of intimacy with his newfound game. Placing the rock star set carefully back on its stand, he scanned the rows for his next choice.

His gaze landed on something unusual: a mask labeled "Liam – Athlete." The mannequin head sported a short buzz cut and a face glistening with sweat, as if Liam had just finished a grueling workout.

The outfit was a basketball jersey and matching shorts, complete with a pair of size-13 sneakers. A duffel bag sat beside the mannequin, holding accessories like a wristband and a water bottle.

Elliot couldn’t resist. He stripped down and pulled on the jersey and shorts. They felt cool and lightweight, clinging to his body in a way that made him acutely aware of every movement. The sneakers were enormous compared to his regular size, but they fit perfectly, thanks to the padding built into the soles.

The mask was different from the others—it came with a slight sheen, replicating the effect of perspiration. Elliot slipped it on, adjusting it carefully, and popped in the brown contact lenses.

The mirror revealed someone who looked fresh off a basketball court: a chiseled jawline, a confident smirk, and broad shoulders that seemed almost too big to be his own. Elliot flexed an arm experimentally, laughing at how the mask made his wiry frame appear like a professional athlete’s.

“Game on,” he said, his voice carrying a new edge.

As he returned Liam’s set to its place, Elliot felt something shift. The masks weren’t just disguises anymore; they were identities. Each time he looked in the mirror, he felt less like Elliot and more like the man staring back.

He hesitated, his hand hovering over a shelf filled with more masks. Should he stop? He shook his head. No one was here to judge him. He could stop whenever he wanted.

His fingers brushed against a mask labeled "Dominic – Undercover Agent." The face was rugged, with a five o’clock shadow and a slight scar running down one cheek. The outfit was a tactical ensemble: a black turtleneck, combat pants, and utility boots. A leather holster and fake earpiece completed the look.

This time, Elliot didn’t hesitate. He undressed quickly, feeling a rush as he pulled on the tactical pants and secured the belt around his waist. The turtleneck hugged his frame, making him feel both sleek and dangerous.

The boots were heavier than the others, clunking solidly on the floor as he paced. Finally, he pulled on Dominic’s mask, the material molding perfectly to his features. The scar added an air of danger, and the steely gray contact lenses gave his gaze an intensity that made him shiver.

When he stared into the mirror, Elliot felt like a stranger to himself. He reached for the holster, strapping it across his chest, and slid the fake earpiece into place.

“Agent Bennett,” he whispered to himself, testing the new persona. He turned sharply, pretending to clear a room, his movements sharp and precise.

Elliot’s exhilaration outweighed his caution. He scanned the shelves for one last transformation, his eyes landing on a mask labeled "Malik – Urban Legend."

The mask was striking, with smooth dark skin, a neatly shaped beard, and bold features that radiated charisma. The accompanying outfit hung nearby: an oversized hoodie, baggy jeans, and a pair of pristine white sneakers. A thick gold chain rested on the mannequin's chest, completing the ensemble.

Elliot hesitated for a moment. The set was unlike anything he’d tried before, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty. But the thrill was irresistible.

Stripping down, he reached for the hoodie first. It was heavy and warm, the fabric thick enough to feel substantial. He tugged it over his head, the hood settling comfortably around his neck. The jeans were loose, pooling slightly around the tops of the sneakers when he slipped them on. The chain was the final touch, cool against his chest.

Now for the mask.

Elliot picked it up carefully, noting the incredible detail: the texture of the skin, the subtle highlights on the nose and cheekbones, the natural sheen of the beard. Sliding it over his face, he adjusted it until it fit seamlessly. The brown contact lenses were a perfect match for the mask’s warm, expressive eyes.

When he turned to the mirror, the transformation was complete.

Elliot barely recognized himself. Malik’s broad shoulders and confident stance felt worlds apart from his usual frame. The oversized clothes emphasized a casual, effortless style that made him look like he belonged on a street corner or a music video set. He smirked, leaning into the persona.

“What’s up?” he muttered, deepening his voice. He laughed, shaking his head at how different he sounded.

He struck a pose, pulling the hood up over his head, and turned sideways in the mirror. The way the sneakers gleamed under the fluorescent lights added to the image, making him feel like someone who turned heads wherever he went.

Elliot was so absorbed in Malik’s reflection that he didn’t hear the faint click of the studio door unlocking.

-----

“Elliot. What are you doing?”

The voice froze him in place. He spun around, heart pounding, to see Mr. Calloway, his supervisor, standing in the doorway with one eyebrow raised. Calloway’s sharp suit and polished shoes looked completely out of place in the dimly lit studio, but his expression was impossible to misread: curiosity, amusement, and just a hint of annoyance.

“Uh… I… I was just, uh… testing the fit,” Elliot stammered. The deep voice of Malik spilled out of his mouth, making his excuse sound even more absurd.

Calloway took a step forward, folding his arms as he looked Elliot up and down. “Testing the fit, huh?” His lips twitched into a small smirk. “Well, you do look good, I’ll give you that.”

Elliot’s cheeks burned under the mask. He started to peel it off, fumbling with the edges.

“Stop.”

The command made him freeze. Calloway tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful.

“Put the hood back up,” he said.

Elliot hesitated, then obeyed, pulling the hood over his head again. Calloway paced slowly around him, inspecting the outfit from every angle.

“Hm,” Calloway said finally. “I always wondered how these looked in action. You wear it well.”

Elliot shifted awkwardly. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

Calloway waved a hand, cutting him off. “Relax. I’m not mad. But since you’re already having fun…” He gestured to the rows of masks. “Pick one out for me.”

Elliot blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly. “What?”

“You heard me,” Calloway said, a glint of mischief in his eye. “If you’re going to play dress-up, let’s see what you can do with me.”

“You want me to… pick one?” Elliot asked, dumbfounded.

Calloway shrugged. “I’ve always been curious about these things. Might as well indulge.”

Elliot hesitated, but Calloway’s expectant look made it clear he wasn’t joking. Elliot scanned the shelves, searching for something drastically different from Calloway’s usual polished, buttoned-up look. His eyes landed on a set labeled "Jax – The Punk Rebel."

The mask had a youthful, edgy vibe: messy black hair with streaks of electric blue, a pierced eyebrow, and sharp cheekbones. The outfit was equally bold: a black leather jacket covered in studs, a ripped band T-shirt, tight black jeans, and heavy combat boots. A chain dangled from the pants, and fingerless gloves completed the look.

Elliot hesitated for a moment before pulling it down. He held it up with a small smirk. “How about this one?”

Calloway raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “You want me to dress like that?”

“Well,” Elliot said, a little braver now, “you did say you wanted to try something different.”

Calloway sighed but took the set. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Elliot stepped back as Calloway began changing. Watching his boss trade in his tailored suit for tight jeans and a leather jacket was surreal. The combat boots added a heavy stomp to his normally quiet, calculated steps.

Finally, Calloway picked up the mask. The punk's wild hair and defiant smirk were a far cry from his usual clean-cut look. He adjusted it carefully, making sure the edges fit perfectly before popping in the bright blue contact lenses.

When Calloway turned to the mirror, Elliot couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Well?” Calloway asked, his voice a deep rasp that suited the rebellious persona. He adjusted the leather jacket, striking a mockingly defiant pose. “How do I look?”

“Like someone who’d get kicked out of their own office,” Elliot joked, still grinning.

Calloway chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got a strange sense of humor, Bennett.” He stepped closer to the mirror, inspecting the transformation. “I have to admit, this is… fun. A little ridiculous, but fun.”

Before Elliot could answer, the studio door creaked open again. Both he and Calloway froze, the playful mood evaporating instantly. They turned toward the sound, expecting to see a coworker or perhaps security. Instead, a man in a black uniform with the company logo stepped inside, clipboard in hand.

It was Frank, the head of inventory.

Frank looked up and froze in his tracks, his eyes widening as he took in the scene: Elliot still wearing Malik’s oversized hoodie and baggy jeans, and Calloway transformed into Jax, the punk rebel.

“What the hell is going on here?” Frank demanded, his voice sharp.

Elliot’s stomach sank. Calloway, however, didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, his combat boots thudding heavily on the floor, and gave Frank a mischievous smirk.

“Relax, Frank,” Calloway said, his raspy, rebellious voice a perfect match for the punk persona. “We’re just… testing the merchandise.”

“Testing?” Frank repeated, incredulous. His eyes darted between the two of them. “Do you know how much trouble you could get into for messing with inventory like this? These are high-value items!”

Calloway waved a dismissive hand, clearly enjoying the role he was playing. “Come on, Frank. Don’t act like you’ve never been curious.”

Frank sputtered, clearly caught off guard by Calloway’s brazen attitude. Elliot, meanwhile, stood frozen, unsure whether to defend himself or stay silent.

Then, to Elliot’s shock, Calloway grinned and gestured toward the shelves. “Why don’t you join us? Pick one out. It’s not every day you get to see yourself as someone else.”

Frank blinked, his indignation faltering. “What?”

“You heard me,” Calloway said, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re always talking about inventory this, inventory that. Why not take a closer look? I mean, really experience it.”

Elliot stared at Calloway, his heart racing. Was he seriously inviting Frank to join them?

Frank hesitated, his grip on the clipboard tightening. Then his gaze shifted to the rows of masks, curiosity flickering in his eyes despite himself. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” Calloway said with a shrug. “But you’ve got to admit—it’s tempting.”

Frank sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a terrible idea.”

“And yet, you’re considering it,” Calloway pointed out, his smirk widening.

After a long pause, Frank set his clipboard down and stepped toward the shelves. Elliot exchanged a wide-eyed look with Calloway, who winked.

“What’s the craziest one here?” Frank muttered under his breath, scanning the options.

Elliot’s anxiety began to shift into a strange excitement as he realized the night had taken a completely unexpected turn.

Frank scanned the shelves, muttering to himself as his eyes darted over the masks. He stopped in front of a set labeled "Boone – The Outland Ranger."

The mask was rugged and wild-looking: sun-kissed skin, a thick unkempt beard, and sharp, weathered features. The outfit hanging nearby was equally striking: a sleeveless leather vest adorned with various patches, a pair of tan cargo pants tucked into scuffed combat boots, and a wide-brimmed hat with a feather stuck into the band. A leather holster with a prop revolver hung at the side, completing the ensemble.

“This one’s ridiculous,” Frank muttered, pulling it off the rack. He turned to Calloway and Elliot, holding it up for them to see. “What do you think?”

Calloway smirked, crossing his arms. “Perfect. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to be a ranger.”

Elliot bit back a grin as Frank sighed, clearly regretting every decision that had brought him here, and began stripping out of his uniform. He folded his shirt neatly, shooting a glare at Calloway when he caught the boss smirking.

The transformation began with the cargo pants, which fit loosely but comfortably. The leather vest was snug, its patches adding a gritty, rebellious touch. Frank hesitated at the holster but eventually strapped it on, adjusting it with a scowl.

Finally, he picked up the mask. It was heavier than he expected, the craftsmanship so detailed it seemed almost alive. He slipped it over his head, adjusting it until the edges vanished seamlessly into his neck. The transformation was instant: the tired, middle-aged inventory manager disappeared, replaced by Boone’s rugged, outdoorsy persona.

Elliot handed him the hazel contact lenses, which Frank inserted with surprising ease. Then he placed the wide-brimmed hat on his head, completing the look.

When Frank turned to the mirror, he froze.

“What the…” His voice was rough and deep, entirely unlike his usual tone. He leaned closer to his reflection, running a gloved hand over the mask’s beard. “This is insane.”

Calloway chuckled. “Told you. Looks good on you, though.”

Frank adjusted the holster, his expression a mix of disbelief and intrigue. “I look like I just stepped out of a western.” He struck a mock pose, drawing the prop revolver from its holster. “Bang, bang,” he muttered, smirking despite himself.

Elliot couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You’re a natural.”

Frank turned to face them, crossing his arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it—this is… kind of cool. But if anyone finds out about this, we’re all getting fired.”

“Only if you don’t look the part,” Calloway teased, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now come on. Let’s see how these characters look together.”

Frank groaned but followed as Calloway led him and Elliot to a larger mirror on the other side of the room. The three of them stood side by side: Calloway as Jax, the rebellious punk; Frank as Boone, the rugged ranger; and Elliot as Malik, the urban legend.

For a moment, the absurdity of the situation faded, replaced by a strange sense of camaraderie.

“You know,” Calloway said, grinning, “we could pull off one hell of a heist looking like this.”

The three stood in front of the mirror, their reflections almost unrecognizable. The transformation wasn’t just physical—it was as though stepping into these personas unlocked something freer in each of them.

Calloway adjusted the chains on his jacket, his smirk now almost cocky. “You know, I’ve been running this place for years, and I’ve never actually tried these on. I gotta admit, they’re pretty incredible.”

Frank snorted, tugging at the brim of his hat. “Yeah, well, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re dressed like a punk rock delinquent.” He gestured toward Calloway’s combat boots. “Those are a far cry from your usual loafers.”

“Hey,” Calloway shot back, “at least I look good. You look like you just walked out of a survivalist convention.”

Elliot chuckled, finally feeling relaxed enough to join the banter. “And I look like I should be running a streetball tournament.” He spread his arms, taking in his oversized hoodie and sneakers. “Guess we’ve all got our alter egos now.”

Frank shook his head, but a small smile crept onto his face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Calloway said, raising an eyebrow. “Frank, look at us. We’re living the dream. For years, people have been buying these masks to become someone else, even just for a moment. And here we are, actually getting to experience it ourselves.”

Frank sighed, leaning against the counter. “You’ve got a point. It’s… kind of fun.” He glanced down at the prop revolver, spinning it idly before sliding it back into the holster. “Not gonna lie, I do feel pretty badass.”

“Exactly!” Calloway said, clapping him on the back. He turned to Elliot. “What about you, Bennett? Feeling like a whole new person?”

Elliot hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do. It’s weird… but in a good way.”

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence, staring at their reflections. For a moment, they weren’t coworkers—they were characters, living in a shared fantasy.

Finally, Calloway broke the silence. “You know, we should make this a team-building exercise. Let everyone try on a mask, get a feel for the product.”

Frank groaned. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can handle seeing Jerry from accounting dressed like a Viking.”

Elliot laughed, picturing it. “Or Martha from HR as a biker chick.”

Calloway chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine, fine. But we’ll keep this between us for now. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Frank and Elliot said in unison.

“Good,” Calloway said, straightening his jacket. He turned to the mirror one last time, his expression softening. “Well, gentlemen, if nothing else, this has been a night to remember.”

Frank smirked. “Just as long as no one remembers it tomorrow.”

Elliot grinned, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. For the first time in a long while, work didn’t feel like work—it felt like an adventure.

Calloway leaned back against the counter, looking at Frank and Elliot with a mischievous glint in his eye. “All right, gentlemen,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “We’ve tried on our alter egos. Now let’s take it up a notch.”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘take it up a notch’?”

Calloway smirked. “We switch. Each of us gets to experience someone else’s transformation. It’s only fair.”

Elliot blinked, his pulse quickening. “You mean… you want us to trade outfits and masks?”

“Exactly,” Calloway said, pushing off the counter. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little sweat.”

Frank groaned, rubbing his temples. “This is getting out of hand.”

“And yet,” Calloway said, pointing at him, “you’re not saying no.”

Frank hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Elliot swallowed hard, feeling both nervous and intrigued. He glanced at Calloway’s punk-inspired outfit, then at Frank’s rugged ranger look. Both felt so far removed from his own urban style that the thought of stepping into either was dizzying.

Calloway clapped his hands. “All right, here’s how this works. We’ll go one at a time. Frank, you’ll start by switching with me. Elliot, you’re next. Sound good?”

Frank shrugged. “Might as well get it over with.”

Frank unbuckled the holster from his waist, the leather strap creaking as he handed it to Calloway. “Here. Start with this.”

Calloway took it, slipping it on with ease before removing his own leather jacket. The studs glinted under the studio lights as he passed it to Frank. “And this is yours.”

Frank slipped the jacket on, the heavy material fitting snugly over his broad shoulders. The band T-shirt came next, and he grimaced as he pulled it over his head. “This thing’s damp,” he muttered, feeling the residual heat from Calloway’s body.

Calloway laughed as he tugged on the ranger vest. “That’s the price of admission.”

The pants were next, and Elliot couldn’t look away as the two men swapped. Frank struggled to wiggle into the tight black jeans, muttering under his breath about how restrictive they were. Meanwhile, Calloway adjusted the cargo pants, clearly amused by how loose they felt compared to his usual attire.

Finally, they exchanged masks. Frank hesitated as he peeled off the Boone mask, revealing his flushed face beneath. The inside of the mask glistened with sweat, and he handed it to Calloway with a grimace. “This is disgusting.”

Calloway took it without hesitation, slipping it over his head. He adjusted it, the bearded face settling into place seamlessly. “There we go,” he said, his voice now rough and deep like Boone’s.

Frank picked up the Jax mask, grimacing at the sticky interior. “I swear, if I get a rash from this…” He trailed off as he slid it on, the punk’s sharp features replacing his own.

When they turned to face the mirror, Elliot couldn’t help but laugh. Calloway, now dressed as the rugged ranger, looked completely at ease, while Frank’s transformation into the rebellious punk was hilariously out of character.

“How do I look?” Frank asked, his new voice rasping like sandpaper.

“Like you’re about to start a bar fight,” Calloway said, grinning.

Calloway turned to Elliot. “Your turn, Bennett. Let’s see you handle Boone’s look.”

Elliot’s heart raced as he began peeling off Malik’s hoodie. The fabric clung to his skin, damp with sweat, and he handed it to Calloway, who took it without complaint.

“Man, this thing’s heavy,” Calloway said, slipping it on.

Elliot kicked off the sneakers and struggled out of the baggy jeans, feeling oddly self-conscious as he handed them over. Calloway, now fully dressed as Malik, adjusted the oversized clothes with ease.

Meanwhile, Elliot reached for Boone’s outfit. The vest was stiff and warm, the leather almost alive with the residual heat from Calloway’s body. The cargo pants felt rough against his skin, and the holster added an unfamiliar weight to his side.

Finally, it was time for the mask. Elliot hesitated as he picked up Boone’s rugged face, the beard still damp from Calloway’s earlier transformation. He slid it over his head, shivering as the sweaty interior clung to his skin.

When he turned to the mirror, he barely recognized himself. The rugged ranger stared back at him, and for a moment, he felt a strange sense of power.

Frank, now fully dressed as Jax, smirked at him. “Not bad, Bennett. Not bad at all.”

The three of them stood side by side, now fully inhabiting each other’s original roles. Calloway, as Malik, looked imposing and confident. Elliot as Boone, had a rugged ease about him. And Frank, as Jax, felt like a completely different person.

“This,” Calloway said, his deep Malik voice booming, “is what I call teamwork.”

[hyakujuuou]

One thing that I think TikTok achieved better than any other social media app (of my time), and the thing that set it apart from other social media (again, of my time) was that first being the cringe app and then being *the* social media app during the pandemic created a culture of imperfection that actually allowed it to develop its own unique cosplay subculture and be the origin site for somewhere between “a lot of” and “the majority of” the memes of the past 5 years. If I were to narrow down one reason why TikTok is this popular as a social media, it would be the culture of imperfection, and I’m legitimately doubtful that this will carry over to a US-owned TikTok.

(long post)

On the other social platforms that I’ve experienced (Google+, YouTube, Tumblr, Instagram, a brief stint with Twitter), there has always seemed to be an expectation that I’m putting my best face forward, and that I’m sort of polishing my words and content, and publishing something that is as perfect as I can manage at that moment.

For cosplay specifically, it is my perception that TikTok successfully developed its own kind of subculture within cosplay as it is done in online spaces, and that it exemplifies the sort of imperfection culture that makes TikTok appealing in a way that Instagram doesn’t. On TikTok, there’s much more of an expectation of imperfection and improvement that allows much more experimentation, less immediate competition, and gives a cosplay stage to people who wouldn’t be able to access conventions for travel or money or ability reasons. On TikTok, I’m not worried about my cosplay being perfect or even being finished— it was common to present works in progress and even to not know what a ‘finished’ version of the cosplay would look like, or if one ever even wanted to finish the build. TikTok was less of a performance in the way that cosplay IRL seems to me and less of a simulation of that performance in a way that IRL cosplay carries onto other social platforms. I think the best ways to describe the energy of TikTok from the reflections posted at shutdown are as a time capsule, a photo album, and a middle school yearbook. Being an app where posting cringe was the expectation for a long time certainly didn’t give TikTok a non-judgemental atmosphere, but there was a sense of community in being cringe but being free.

I think this also reflects in the creation of memes, and also brings in the anonymity aspect of TikTok. On TikTok, people can not only remain anonymous, but aren’t encouraged to use their real names (in the way Facebook and, to a lesser extent, Instagram does) and there’s not as much pressure to connect your profile and content to other media (as with Google+ and YouTube). It wasn’t as connected to other places on the internet (as far as I know I couldn’t directly share an article from a major news source to TikTok the way I could do so via email, Twitter, Facebook). Content posted on TikTok is divorced from reflections of one’s person, in contrast to Instagram, which is much more a place to post snapshots of one’s successes. I think that this, along with the expectation of posting low-effort cringe, gave the app its appeal and unique user culture.

And I don’t know if this is going to be able to exist on a US-owned TikTok, specifically, Donald Trump’s TikTok. In addition to Trump’s ownership driving away a lot of the original “cringe” creators (cosplayers, weebs, furries, visibly queer people, alt people, etc), pro-Trump propaganda forces everybody else willing to post political content to do so in a serious manner, exactly the ‘showing your best face’ that cause other media to be less desirable (or desirable in different ways) than TikTok. When Trump uses his new propaganda toy to amplify his politics, it will push cringe culture either into a small minority of users or off the app entirely. I don’t believe that the same meme culture will be able to continue on Trump’s TikTok, both with the overbearing presence of his social agenda that he’ll be able to push and with cringe culture dying on the app.

And I have no idea what it’s going to do after that. Once it turns into a right-wing echo chamber, it’s going to shut itself off from all other audiences. On an app that pushes Trump-wing propaganda, visibly being anything else will be dangerous to impossible. Once Trump’s right-wing doesn’t have anyone else to mock or criticise, the app will cannibalise itself.

:/

[crimsonsairina]

Fan appreciation post

Thank you, fan artists, for creating your amazing art of our beloved characters, and sharing it with us to admire and gush over.

Thank you, fanfiction witers, for writing your beautiful stories about our beloved characters, and offering us all the things we didn't know we needed.

Thank you, cosplayers, for all of your dedication and the numerous skills that go into creating your costumes and gigs. You bring our beloved characters to life.

Thank you, fan composers, for creating your wonderful music for our beloved worlds and characters. You help set a mood and add to all the things we love.

Thank you, fan crafters, for the dedication you put into your projects, adding to the rich tapestry of our fandom. Your works are truly inspiring.

Thank you, fan loremasters and worldbuilders, for sharing in your knowledge and wisdom. Your aid is invaluable for exploring the world and characters.

Thank you, fan beta readers, editors and brainstormers, for helping our creatives polish and refine their already amazing works.

And finally, thank you to all our fandom friends for loving, sharing and containing all of the above.

[vmartynav]

[lesbincineroar]

yeah

i love the old 90s/2000s cosplay photo of the bruabba cosplay soooooooo so much those cosplayers understood it better than fucking davpro twenty years ahead of the game. their dead eyed stares into the camera with like a little smugness on the abbacchios face. their platform shoes. the #blondeness and above all the #yuriness i ALWAYS loved how they loved

[dixiaaa]

All You Wanna Do - Singing Video

Some gifs from my AYWD singing video. <3 Full version on my youtube channel. Likes and shares are welcome. <3

[snowsetdeer]

What a year we've all had! For the first time ever I can post a fully digital, fully completed yearly art round up post. It's been so awesome to see my style change and develop around my interests this year. All of the pieces (and some commentary from me!) will be posted in full under the cut :)

January, Shampoo from Ranma 1/2 (Citrus Shampoo) The doodle that started it all! I was really busy with school starting back up so it's not the most polished piece in the world, but I really love the colors I used and I'm thinking about revisiting this piece in the new year.

February, Krystal from Star Fox (I can just draw anything isn't that amazing) Although this is only a doodle February is the shortest month so...

March, Faye and Falco from Star Fox, Miffy from Miffy (What are they looking at?) I was making a lot of 3D Miffy models and such for one of my classes this month, and I was still super into Star Fox, so I decided to just mix the two together! I really like doing art that puts random characters together like this in my sketchbook, maybe I'll do more crossover pieces next year :)

April, Falco, Peppy, Slippy, Fox, and Krystal's Arm (N64 collab over on Newgrounds) This was my first ever collab, and I'm really glad I pushed myself to join! This is a redraw of one of the covers for Earth Defense Girl Iko Chan, I reference a lot of Iko Chan pictures and media when I'm drawing lol.

May, Sonic the Hedgehog with the Beam Kirby Powerup (submission to the Sonic anniversary collab on Newgrounds) This was another collab, and I wish I had been able to put more detail into the background for the final piece, but the collab only required a clear background png of your assigned character so I really focused in on Sonic.

June, The prince and The King of All Cosmos from Katamari Damacy (LEAKED 2009 DS EXCLUSIVE DATAMINE aka Hold Out Your Hand Son) The beginning of an era. This 20 minute doodle gifted me a ton of creative ideas and passions this year! The Katamari I drew here and the background (a cropped free Katamari wallpaper) are used in almost every single Katamari piece I made this year as a way to tie them all together (and a way to save time!)

July, The Prince from Katamari Damacy [And technically The King but I did not draw him this time lol] (Katamari Kart!) My sister is a competitive Mario Kart player, and while watching her I thought the Prince would be a cool addition to the roster. This was made before I played the We Love Katamari level where The Prince has his little ducky car or else I would have incorporated it here!

⭐August, The Prince and The King of All Cosmos from Katamari Damacy (Katamari Creation) Side note this is my best performing piece, and I'm so glad I decided to make it!!! It is a redraw of a guy pretending to be a wizard by floating an apple between his hands. I was originally going to draw the prince hiding between the apple slices when you find him in We Love Katamari, but decided that the hands were impressive enough that I could reuse my own Katamari lol.

September, The Queen of All Cosmos from Katamari Damacy (Selfie trend) There was a trend on twitter where a cosplayer put her phone over her face to show the character, and I thought that was so cute I just had to do it with The Queen. I made this to be my pfp on here, but just wasn't quite satisfied with it (it was literally my first digital drawing of the Queen ever lol) SO-

October, The Prince, The Queen, and The King of All Cosmos from Katamari Damacy (He likes to feel tall) This is my actual current profile picture! It was originally made for both here and discord, but discord's circular crop completely removes the King from the picture whoops. I'm really proud of the King's hand and the subtle glow around The Prince to draw the viewer's eye to him, took a lot of trial and error to get both of them just right lol.

November, Ulala from Space Channel 5 (She's Stardust Chic,,,) November I actually had 2 pieces made, but this is the one I intended to be my big monthly piece. I got back into Space Chanel 5 something fierce over the course of the month, and I made so many of my friends play it with me lol.

December, The Queen and The King of All Cosmos (and the Prince really tiny!) from Katamari Damacy (Katamari Christmas) And now we're done! My most recent piece, inspired by family photos turned into Christmas Cards. I also really liked drawing the King and the Queen being cozy. The King's longer hair and more scruffy beard was really fun to play around with too. That's all from me this year! I grew a lot as an artist, but also a friend, mentor, student, and researcher too! I achieved a ton this year, and I can't wait to hit the ground running next year Now it is time for my once yearly "I'm putting one million tags to boost my views and engagement" giant tags section lol

[dorka]

Most mar a garbage day is megirta (egybol ossze is omlott a site)

Over the weekend, the always-excellent John Burn-Murdoch, over at The Financial Times, posted an alarming bit of demographic analysis that has now gone very viral. It’s from a column Burn-Murdoch wrote titled, “A New Global Gender Divide Is Emerging,” which shows a tremendous political gap forming between young men and women around the world.

Burn-Murdoch followed up the column with a lengthy thread on X hypothesizing as to what may be causing this gap and thousands of other users have offered up their own diagnoses, as well: Smartphones, video games, economic inequality, lack of education, an over-correction post-#MeToo.

Interestingly enough, though, the bulk of Burn-Murdoch’s reporting focuses on South Korea, the US, Germany, the UK, Spain, Poland, China, and Tunisia. Which, aside from China and Tunisia, were all countries I worked in, covering elections and far-right radicalization, in and around the time period those countries’ respective political gender gaps began widening. I’m not saying I have a tremendously in-depth understanding of, say, Polish toxic masculinity, but I did spend several days there following around white nationalist rappers and Catholic fundamentalist football fans. And, in South Korea, I worked on a project about radical feminists and their activism against the country’s equivalent of 4chan, Ilbe Storehouse.

In fact, between 2015-2019, I visited over 20 countries, essentially asking the same question: Where do bad men here hangout online? Which has given me a near-encyclopedic directory in my head, unfortunately, of international 4chan knock-offs. In Spain, it’s a car forum that doxxes rape victims called ForoCoches. In France, it’s a gaming forum that organized rallies for Marine Le Pen called Jeux Video. In Japan, it’s 2channel. In Brazil, it’s Dogolachan. And most, if not all, of these spaces pre-date any sort of modern social movement like #MeToo — or even the invention of the smartphone.

But the mainstream acceptance of the culture from these sites is new. Though I don’t actually think the mystery of “why now?” is that much of a mystery. While working in Europe, I came to understand that these sites and their culture war campaigns like Gamergate were a sort of emerging form of digital hooliganism. Nothing they were doing was new, but their understanding how to network online was novel. And in places like the UK, it actually became more and more common in the late-2010s to see Pepe the Frog cosplayers marching alongside far-right football clubs. In the US, we don’t have the same sports culture, but the end result has been the same. The nerds and the jocks eventually aligned in the streets. The anime nazis were simply early adopters and the tough guys with guns and zip ties just needed time to adapt to new technology. And, unlike the pre-internet age, unmoderated large social platforms give them an infinitely-scalable recruitment radius. They don’t have to hide in backrooms anymore.

Much of the digital playbook fueling this recruitment for our new(ish) international masculinist movement was created by ISIS, the true early adopters for this sort of thing. Though it took about a decade for the West to really embrace it. But nowadays, it is not uncommon to see trad accounts sharing memes about “motherhood,” that are pretty much identical to the Disney Princess photoshops ISIS brides would post on Tumblr to advertise their new life in Syria. And, even more darkly, just this week, a Trump supporter in Pennsylvania beheaded his father and uploaded it to YouTube, in a video where he ranted about the woke left and President Biden. Online extremism is a flat circle.

The biggest similarity, though, is in what I can cultural encoding. For ISIS, this was about constantly labeling everything that threatened their influence as a symptom of the decadent, secular West.

(X.com/jeremykauffman)

Taylor Swift, an extremely affluent blonde, blue-eyed white woman who writes country-inflected pop music and is dating a football player headed for the Super Bowl. She should be a resounding victory for these guys. Doesn’t get more American than that. But due to an actually very funny glitch in how they see the world, she’s actually a huge threat.

Pop culture, according to the right wing, should be frivolous. Because before the internet, it was something sold to girls by corporations run by powerful men. Famous pop stars through the ages, like Frank Sinatra, America’s first Justin Bieber, or The Beatles, the One Direction of their time, would be canonized as Great by Serious Men after history had forgotten they rocketed to success as their generation’s Tumblr Sexymen. But from the 2000s onward, thanks to an increasingly powerful digital public square, young women and people of color were able to have more influence in mainstream culture and also accumulate more financial power from it. And after Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign was able to connect this new form of pop influence to both liberal progressive politics and, also, social media, well, conservatives realized they had to catch up and fast. And the fastest way to do that is to try and smash the whole thing by dismissing it as feminine.

Pop music? It’s for girls. Social media? It’s for girls. Democrats? Girls. Taylor Swift? Girls and also a government psyop. But this line of thinking has no limit. It poisons everything. If Swift manages to make it to the Super Bowl, well, that has to become feminine too. And at a certain point, the whole thing falls apart because, honestly, you just sound like an insane loser.