friends of flora

Long time no see. ♥

I didn’t make a lot of digital art in 2016, so I really want to change that in 2017. These last couple of months I’ve started doodling villagers again so….it’s time to bring these crossovers back. I’ve always been unsure of a good friend for Flora, but after some thinking Merengue felt like a perfect fit. ;; They would be such cute lil baking buddies….

4

New merch ideas!

Acrylic Stands:
- Nohrian Siblings (considering Hoshidan one in the future)
- Shared Friends (with Flora)
- can be written on with whiteboard markers as memo pad!
Notebook:
- Keaton&Velouria
- unlined?
Keychains&Charms:
- Parent+Kid in a cup and a saucer charm
- can be paired up with a separate mother(Fates) or father(Awakening) in a teapot charm for the whole family!

The stand is already on its way~!
I might make them into charms too if people like it!

I re-stocked all royals notebooks&sisters notebooks for the online shop.
I’m aiming to open it in August! Thank you to those of you who are waiting! ;w;

I became an aesthetic abomination

So I did this recent photoshoot with my friend Flora in some great 90′s finds from Goodwill; some really quality aesthetic

Tonight I decided to make a macro out of one of the images for a friend so I booted up photoshoop and got to work on this

and then I thought “OH, I SHOULD MAKE IT TRANSPARENT!!1! YEAH THATLL BE A COOL THING TO DO” so I got to work on a quick, shitty magnetic lasso crop

but when I hit DELETE on the selection…

THIS occured

God bless the content aware fill

So, cause I’m without tablet this week (will get it back on Sunday), I went and did a work without answering a question.
So, here’s the mane six’s kids. Lemme give ya a short introduction, starting to the top left corner.

  • Luscious Locks, daughter of Pinkie Pie and Pokey Pierce, big sister to Cotton Pop, nicknamed Luss, got heterochromia (different colored) eyes
  • Cotton Pop, son of Pinkie Pie and Cheese Sandwich, little brother to Luscious Locks, buckyteeth
  • Flora Fauna, daughter of Fluttershy and Bulk Biceps, only-child, nicknamed Faun, Male to Female transgender
  • Thunder Shock, son of Rainbow Dash and Hoops, second oldest child, nicknamed Thunder, best friends with Flora Fauna
  • Ball Bruiser, son of Rainbow Dash and Hoops, oldest child, nicknamed BB, loves pulling pranks and taking naps
  • Taaffeite, daughter of Rarity and Spike, only-child, nicknamed Fei, gem collector
  • Obsidian, daughter of Twilight Sparkle and Sombra, oldest child, no nickname, reserved in nature
  • Misty Skies, daughter of Twilight Sparkle and Sombra, youngest child, nicknamed Misty, smoke powers like her father
  • Storm Razer, daughter of Rainbow Dash and Hoops, youngest child, nicknamed Stormy, was born with damaged vocal cords
  • Zapple, son of Applejack and Trouble Shoes, only-child, nicknamed Zap by some, boyfriend to Enticer

All these and their parents are up for asks as well

There’s No Love (Like My Love)

When I see people ranting about how representation doesn’t matter and queer people are just being annoying and want everything to be about them, I always think about my friend Flora.

(Her name isn’t actually Flora; she works with flowers, that’s all.)

Flora and I grew up in the same city, but on two very different planets. My parents had a house full of books, and we travelled a lot, and we went to weird film festivals and we had frank discussions about most stuff. Her parents were Catholic and no-nonsense people - working class, family first, palm branches on the wall on the right season, two weeks of holiday to the same seaside resort every year. They had no interest in movies and only watched mainstream TV programs (her father: ski, cars, and football; her mother: daytime dramas about women cheating on their husbands with their own brothers and the occasional cooking show). All they read was the local newspaper, and mostly that one section about who died and what’s going on in town and when the market’s going to be.

In a different country, Flora and I would never have met at all - which is a scary thought in itself. Instead, we went to the same school and became friends and regularly played at each other’s houses. She laughed at my parents’ weird Buddha statues, and I stuffed my face with whatever her mum was cooking, because it was always this traditional stuff with way too much butter and sugar and boy, was it good.

When we turned eighteen, I moved away, went to university, started a study about a remote past and naked dudes and how they tied the tip of their penises before running a race so that sand and dirt wouldn’t get in. I met Colombians and Russians and tried my hand at new languages and became best friends with Communist musicians and gay artists. Flora remained home, started an apprenticeship in a flower shop (and loved it), and slowly sank into her parents’ lifestyle, complete with nice boy and Sunday roast and a vague expectation of babies and maybe, one day, a house.

I didn’t come back all that often, and she was plenty busy, but we’d been good friends growing up, and when another classmate organized a reunion, I was delighted to see Flora again. It was ten of us, all girls, and we were in this restaurant chatting about random stuff (boys we used to fancy, who else just had a baby, an old professor who’d got himself the most ridiculous little doggie ever) when someone asked, completely out of the blue, “So, Flora, how’s your sister? God, she must be all grown up by now. Does she have a boyfriend?”

Flora’s sister had been a little sister to most of us. She was five years younger, so she was essentially useless to us - we were fourteen and we wanted to be twenty-four and use make-up and pretend we knew what cigarettes tasted like and she’d come into the room whining about something or other, insisting to be included. And it always ended the same way - with us slamming the door in her face, with her running to her mum, with her mum scolding us, her face all red and her strong hands waving dangerously into the air (she had a dry-cleaning business, and was as muscled as a bull); with us dragging our feet all the way into the garden to play with the bloody child. But, yeah, back then kids were kids, even at fourteen, and after the initial bout of annoyance and resntment we always managed to have fun all together - we would play hide-and-seek, or sneak off to the park and make wobbly human pyramids on the swings.

Does she have a boyfriend?

Flora tensed, and I tensed. Ours is a small town, and I’d seen Flora’s sister several times over the last few years - very often in the company of the same girl. I’d glanced at them as they browsed stuff at the market, as they had coffee together in the main square, and something about their body language - if these had been a boy and a girl, I’d have assumed they were dating. But since it was two girls - you know how it is. It doesn’t matter if it’s a movie or real life: until a same-sex couple actually snogs in front of you, they’re just friends.

(I hate that this is always my first reaction, but there you go.)

“My sister is, uh,” Flora said, and she blushed; and then something changed on her face, and the embarrassment - the shame - gave way to a dogged determination. “Actually, there’s something you should know about my sister. She’s one of those - she’s a homosexual.”

The thing is, my town is small and sort of sleepy, and these issues aren’t exactly out in the open. But we’re still pretty progressive (normal) - we have sex ed in school and we learn what being gay means and civil partnerships are a thing, so people are generally decent. After Flora’s momentous pronouncement, I glanced around the table, and saw that everyone was having the same reaction I was - we were surprised, not at Flora’s words, but at the fact she clearly expected us to be hostile.

“Okay,” the same girl said. “Does she have a girlfriend, then?”

Flora unclenched her hands, breathed out.

“Uh, no. Not at the moment. She used to date someone, though - they were together for quite some time.”

She paused, looked down at her half-finished pizza, then up at us.

“When the other girl ended things, my sister was really - she was very broken up about it, actually. Wouldn’t come out of her room. My mum and me were really surprised, you know,” she added, speaking in a way that implied she was about to let us in in some big secret, “because we didn’t know gay people did things like us. But it was like she’d broken up with a guy - no difference at all.”

Flora stopped talking, then nodded in wonder. She clearly thought this was news to everybody.

I looked up, caught Luna’s eye (I’m going to call her Luna so you know exactly who she is: a bit hippy, dressed in bright things, studied anthropology, fell in love with some Korean boy, mostly talks in terms of prana and chakra), saw that she too didn’t know what to say. That she too was shocked, aghast, even, to see that someone who’d grown up in the same world we had - someone we went to school with, someone we obsessed over Beverly Hills 90210 with - could actually think until the age of 31 that gay people don’t have feelings.

“Are your parents okay with it?” someone asked, and thank God.

“My mum cried a lot,” Flora said, looking away. “She was so ashamed. She was afraid people would make fun of us, shut us out. That no one would wanna marry me because of my sister being - well. She kept saying it was all over, and stuff. But then after a week or so, she just went into my sister’s room and was like, Are you okay? Are you happy? and my sister said yes. So my mum told her that was the most important thing, and if she was different she was different, and if other people didn’t like it -” Flora hesitated, then grinned, “they could go fuck themselves.”

We all cheered.

“So then they hugged and cried together and now it’s all fine. I mean, my dad’s not super happy with it, but my mum’s threatened to hit him over the head if he says anything, so.”

Yeah, we all remembered her dad: a head shorter than his wife, and as jumpy as the electric cables he worked with. As the conversation slowly moved to other topics, I glanced at Flora and felt a great deal of affection for her and her mum. They’d found themselves in a situation they knew nothing about, and they’d faced it alone, without social workers of helpful leaflets or whatever, and they’d gone about things exactly right.

Are you okay? Are you happy?

And, of course, I was also annoyed at myself. Because, yeah, I could wonder all I wanted how the hell Flora and I could have such different ideas about things, but, after all, I’d seen her sister with her girlfriend several times and my progressive, left-wing, university educated (so-called) brain had willfully edited out all relevant information to make the real situation fit in some bullshit mould of boy meets girl normal.

Because the thing is, I’ve always known it’s okay to be gay and gay people are like everyone else and left it at that. It’s taken me a long while to even notice we never see gay people in books and movies. I still remember the fascinated shock of it all - I was reading yet another fantasy novel and was knee-deep in a world of swords and magic coins and whatever, and all of a sudden the wizard had fallen in love with the young hero and I was like, what the hell? Not because there was something wrong with it, but because these things just don’t happen. People are not gay in fantasy novels. People are gay in gritty coming-of-age stories and get bullied and try to kill themselves, and that’s how things are.

When I fell into the whole Destiel trap and started to read Johnlock metas and opened my eyes a bit wider, I rememebred that evening with my friends and started to wonder how different Flora’s reaction would have been if she’d grown up watching television shows featuring one or two gay characters. And not gay characters who die or have AIDS or feel terribly conflicted about their sexuality - gay characters who have crushes and date and are jealous and make fools of themselves in front of the person they love; gay couples who fight because no one wants to do the dishes and the baby needs to be changed and For fuck sake’s, we’re not inviting your bitchy aunt May over for Christmas. Gay people who aren’t just gay and sit around all day thinking about how gay they are - gay people who have jobs and a family and you only notice they’re gay because at the end of the day, they go home to a woman (or a man).

So, yeah, representation isn’t everything (everything would be equal rights, for starters - the right to marry and adopt and not to be fired because you think dicks are kind of nice, for instance, and everything would also be people not needing to come out, because no one would assume you’re straight as a matter of fact and everything else is ‘just a phase’), but if Flora had watched David Fisher fight with Keith about his niece’s bedtime and Lafayette wearing eyeliner and Sookie telling him how fab he looked and Diana Berrigan being the smartest person in the entire office instead of being flooded with annoying white girls crying their eyes out over boring white boys, well, maybe she wouldn’t have been shocked and saddened by her sister’s coming out. Maybe she would have known, right from the start, that her sister was still normal. That her sister was still gonna have it all - the falling in love part, and the first date part, and the huge surge of feeling and the let’s get used to each other and the shy smiles and the familiarity and the easy affection (and, maybe, the boredom, the wondering if this other person even gets us, and where are we going; the pain of leaving someone, the pain of being left). Instead, because of the lack of representation, Flora assumed her sister would live a life of shallow sex in seedy alleys and disease and being only half a person, and this is why people are angry at how LGBT characters are treated in fiction. Because it’s not just about fiction - it never was.

(Otherwise they wouldn’t fight us so hard on this, would they?)

So, here it is. Flora’s story. And hers is the only one I can bear to tell - I can’t imagine how things must have been like for her sister, and I’m angry, every day, that we can’t make a better world where people can just be themselves and give their hearts and love to anyone they want.

7

My friends Lyte @lyteling Flora @flora13china and I have made these costumes to see you in Shanghai. Thanks for letting us know each other and become best friends. We haven’t met each other yet but we are already best friends. Lyte is gonna turn 20 this November 10th and it will be her best birthday ever!!!! We love you so much Tay. Welcome to Shanghai,we’ve been waiting for you. @taylorswift
Distance cannot separate us.
Language cannot separate us.
Culture cannot separate us.
We love you forever and always.
Long live. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
WE ARE SO EXCITED
SEE YOU IN 7 DAYS TAY
@taylorswift