love is a bloodsport

Hey there! I'm Ale, full-time illustrator and I'm always available for work ✌The harvest was Inadequate this month and not enough new work has come up so I've fallen into debt again.

Not taking full-blown painting with detailed background commissions for now as all slots are taken (thank you to those waiting!!)

You can see more examples of my work, some nice comments people have left me and process so you know it's a real person behind.

📨 Ready? Contact me at [email protected]!

thank you for tagging me @lovetriangleroute <333 technically already a snippet smonday, but oh well. felt a little inspired by my last post. i just wrote this so. barely edited first draft, don't look at this too closely. i might have to give up my url for writing this ASKJDNKJS

For a moment, she does catch her reflection in one of the floor to ceiling windows. The look in her eyes is fucking wild, she's definitely looking appropriately crazy. But more importantly, she realizes that the silk of her slip has turned almost transparent in the rain, clinging to her every curve and leaving very, very little to the imagination—probably the real reason the doorman was staring. She hastily wraps her coat further around herself, something she immediately regrets. When she left, she grabbed a coat at random, noticing too late that it was one of Oriana's. The warm sandalwood note of her cologne fills her lungs and she feels even more sick to her stomach. Maybe doing this as good as naked would be the better option, actually. She averts her gaze again, tries to focus on the half darkened city skyline instead. On the way the lights blur behind the raindrop speckled panes of glass, giving the illusion of being able to see starts despite the light pollution. She thinks of one of these lights belonging to Oriana, of her turning on the lamp on her nightstand to find her gone from their bed. She needs a fucking drink. Maybe two. Or Six. Why the hell did she ever let Oriana convince her to stop drinking? [...] She finally faces her. Green eyes take her in, they drift up her legs and immediately do a double take. Thanks to Oriana's height, her coat reaches Marjorie's mid thigh, offering a lot more coverage than her night-slip had, however, at Seven's briefly startled expression, she realizes it must look a bit like she isn't wearing anything underneath. Shit, maybe that would've been the way to go. What's the dress code for asking your ex to ride off into the sunset with you, hours before your impending nuptials? She's not sure, not that she's a stranger to the concept of wrecking a marriage, it's just never been her own before.

nayeli carrasquillo, lead singer of until utopia (@infamous-if)

with their unsettling soundscapes and use of spoken word, experimental outfit until utopia may seem like a dark horse on battle of the bands--until frontwoman carrasquillo begins to sing and you find yourself transfixed. her haunting vocals and poetic lyricism are not to be overlooked...which she'll politely remind you of if you ask her about ex-bandmate seven lawless or underground wastebasket. behind the high concept art, until utopia is a love letter to struggling for a better tomorrow and one to watch this season.

but

THANK YOU SO MUCH SWEET ANON <3 a sweater Vic just for you <3