#spring gala

[astarfruity]

Here is me hard launching my Tav Iliana!

Her and Gale are serving at the Spring Gala over on Bluesky !

Imagine this is the first time I draw my main Tav in a year and a half ❗️🦋

[c-of-d]

Emmy Rossum, Julie de Libran couture, New York City Ballet, 2026, Spring Gala

[disarmluna]

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

✨💐 Spring Gala cont. 💐✨

I’m so horribly behind on posting stuff from the April Art Club Event

It takes time to cross the room, and Mikael feels eyes on him as he slowly makes his way across the ballroom floor. It's sharp, calculated...distinct from the other hundereds of guests here for the party tonight. Dread floods through him as he wonders if he's been caught. It's been more than an hour after all. And his luck had been running a bit too smoothly tonight.

Instead, he turns to meet a familiar scowl head on. His anxiety dissipates as he unabashedly stares back at pale grey eyes, narrowed at him and radiating a cocktail of pent up emotion that has a shiver running down his spine and blood rushing to the tips of his ears. He feels pinned down, in the most delightful way.

He's flirted with the half elf before, many, many, times when he's busked in the center of town. He's a performer, it's just part of the gig. He knows he lays it on thick sometimes, especially when rent is due and he's still several coins short. And people tend to respond better to friendliness than to begging.

But his flirting was always meet with furious blush that made him feel like a kid with his first schoolyard crush. A desire to tease. The only way he's ever been taught to express affection. He can't help it, and for some reason, the half elf's rebuffs always hit home a little different, spurring on a embarrassing cycle of trying harder the next time just to be rebuffed again and again.

But the blush is what sticks in his mind. The anger in his eyes that doesn't always seem to be a result of being flirted with. He thinks for a moment of Verity, and wonders if he's doomed to always chase after people who ultimately will never want him.

But, those eyes are different than hers. There is an honestly that betrays enough that he feels confident in his decision to approach, despite his palms sweating as he sets his empty glass down on a passing tray.

Searos has found an alcove to sulk in, as far as he can get from the main floor without leaving the place entirely, shadowed by the balcony of the private boxes on the second floor. By the time they're standing face to face, Mikael feels his courage waver a bit.

The scowl hasn't softened, but his arms are no longer crossed. More just, hovering awkwardly like he doesn't quite know what to do with his hands. It's incredibly endearing, and he decides to take the risk.

Mikael reaches out slowly, telegraphing every move deliberately, so that Searos has plenty of time to step back if his presence is truly unwelcome. He's almost surprised, that he's allowed to lift his hand up to his lips as he bows slightly, bringing them both to eye level.

"Are you content to just watch? Or would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?"

He can see panic in those pale eyes, and internal battle he's not entirely privy to. He hopes for once, some of his sincerity bleeds through as he keeps steady eye contact and allows a smaller, softer smile to curl at the corner of his lips.

"Okay.”

It's almost lost in the noise of the room.

Mikael's eyes widen in surprise. But before he can second guess himself, he straightens up, still holding onto Searos' hand has he guides him out of the shadows and onto the ballroom floor. He can feel his pulse hammering away as Mikael threads their fingers together.

"Now hold tight," he says as he guides Searos to place and hand on his shoulder. "And just follow my lead."

He places his other hand on Searos' waist and pulls him closer, and Searos makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and looks like he's seconds away from jumping out of his skin. Mikael feels an overwhelming sense of fondness rush over him at the sight.

Oh, he definitely won't waste this opportunity to sweep him off his feet.

▫️▫️▫️

(Big thank you to @infiniteseahorse for putting up with my nonsense and subjecting the most babygirl shadow monk to his own romance novel 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ ՞𐦯 💕)

Previous

[arknightsarchive]

Spring Gala/CNY art: https://www.bilibili.com/opus/1166606750094196737?spm_id_from=333.1387.0.0

[cappierong]

@worldsokayestmagicalgirl told me about a spring gala prompt for an art server I’m not allowed to join (dam you spoilers *shakes fist*) but I still wanted to join so I drew 2 couples from my Dnd campaign: Duo Rong ✨

The second couple is Loretta and Egon 🎲🐍

They are my resident crack ship ‘cus, despite being god, they aren’t actually a couple in cannon 😭 They would be such a power couple that is slightly toxic yet so healthy for each other specially. Hey who knows, maybe one day they can actually get together in cannon (as long as my pcs don’t blow up the world first 😅 lol)

Give a round of applause once again for @worldsokayestmagicalgirl’s A++ fanfic writing skills ✨:

Moments like these are few and far between. When a Princess, and a son of a High Nobel house from a neighboring kingdom, who in any other circumstance, have no reason to meet, suddenly enter each other's orbit.

A sudden meeting of eyes across the floor. Accidental and electrifying. A jolt from a live wire. The young Lord New Haven is no stranger to the feeling. Though this might be the first time it has happened outside his lab.

He usually doesn't stray far from his sister's side during events like this. She's the heir, and a social butterfly who always knows exactly what to say an when. He's more than content to stand back and people watch.

And watch he does.

His mind takes him elsewhere, as he continues to think about the schematics he left on his work table back home. It takes him a moment to realize his eyes have been fixed on swirl of burgundy silk and glittering gold.

The young lady wearing it is captivating, like one of those poison flowers that lures you in in with bright colors and sweet perfume. Something about her seems dangerous, even if he can't quite put his finger on it.

Her dance partner dips her, and when she reaches the deepest point, her eyes flash open, staring straight into his soul.

Pink eyes.

Wait. Shit-

There's a moment of fear once he realizes who he's been staring at.

He shakes his head, noticing only now how far he's drifted from his sister's side. She's halfway across the ballroom now. He looks back to the Princess, now back on her feet and staring back at him over her partner's shoulder. His jaw drops.

He can't help it. He can't stop. She dances, song after song. Countless partners, but her eyes always finds his in the crowd.

His palms itch. It feels like a tease.

But how could he ask the *Princess of Maradolth* to dance?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Princess Loretta Fairaway is used to being overlooked. And the few times she is the subject of such intense focus usually meant there was about to be an attempt on her life.

So when she meets those venom green eyes and finds...Wonder instead of killing intent? Well, that might be a first.

It's not often she's caught but surprise like this. But this boy, who seems unable to pick his jaw up off the floor as he stares at her with completely open awe, seems like the least dangerous person she's ever met.

It's still a gamble, of course. But she thinks she likes her odds.

As she dances with an endless stream of faceless nobodys, they inch closer and closer towards each other. He does not dance with anyone, but seems to drift closer to her.

Almost as if pullled by a force greater than himself.

She smirks, eyeing him.

It's a challenge.

Ask me. Dance with me if you dare.

She wonders how long it will take before he breaks.

Her heels click on the ballroom floor, and if she didn't know any better, she'd say they sound almost like dice, clicking together as they're about to be tossed.

"Ah, yes, " a voice whispers on the wind, mildly amused. "That *would* cause some chaos now, wouldn't it?"

[flipjack]

Rachel McAdams at the Manhattan Theater Club Spring Gala

[electronicsquid]

Vincent Club Spring Gala

(Peter Stackpole. 1958?)