I will post the progress and finish product on my side blog if that's OK with you.
Hello, I absolutely adore your concept for Sun and Moon plushies. And I was wondering if you would be ok with me making them. I have NO wish to monetize or in any way steal them I just really love them and want them, but I felt it best to ask for permission first. I'm sorry if this is rude.
I hope you have a wonderful day.
OMG! Firstly you're not rude AT ALL for asking! Honestly, I'm super happy you did!
I don't mind at all if you wanna make them and, in fact, I'd love to see the progress if you do! I do have a small plan in mind for them that I'm planning to properly announce on the 15th but I have no problem if you'd like to make them! 💖
ok, i’m built like a noble ox. like i am 6′1 and i am sturdy lady. like thighs for days. if you try to move me. you will be moved. body images aside (lol, i am self conscious about my size, yeah it’s life)
so like, i am very used to girls standing next to me in public places. i end up acquiring a pack of ladies. just because women are like, that lady is a lady men stay away from. i am jerk kryptonite (usually, i get my fair share of creeps, such is life) but most men have self preservation that this 6′1 ox will break them. and i will
so usually i am in my own phone and look up to another lady standing next to me. and i will immediately look up and make eye contact and nod. like, you know, that nod. i see you and you can talk if there is something wrong. i end up on a reg basis being a defacto bodyguard to these young ladies and small women while waiting for buses and in the metro.
i am a large oak tree. i protect the other birds.
ladies, we all got roles. find tree in the wild. we’re always happy to provide shelter from the creeps.
i’ve regularly said, “move on, she doesn’t want to be your friend”
“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.
A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.
I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,
“All that talk about the power of friendship,” the antagonist murmured, as they circled the protagonist. “And it never even occurred to you that perhaps your enemies might have friends too, did it? How arrogant a thing, you are…”
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