#He's a lot bigger than he looks
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softcitrus2345 · 1 year ago
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Werewolf Barley (aka Pumpkin) after a small snack (aka an entire fridge full of food) CAN'T YOU SEE HE'S WASTING AWAY, HE NEEDS MORE FOOD DAMN IT 😭
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tizeline · 8 months ago
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I bet raph goes like 🤯 whenever April go big sis mode but Donnie AND leo snickers at his reaction as well.
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Bro is NOT prepared for the little brother treatment!
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omaano · 2 months ago
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Shaak Ti and her tiny charges join the Hades AU, complete, with colourful little highlights and a dialogue box this time (and an alternate version under the cut where I tried my hand at taking the shade/Force-ghost aspect a little further than I did with Fives)
"There is no doubt that Grogu is an exceptional youngling, but I cannot take him on as a Padawan no matter how much I may wish that I could. My duty is to look after the clones as they grow and learn - we cannot just abandon them once their war is over. As a Mandalorian you must understand this. However, I would gladlyassist in your quest in any other way I can."
Linear timeline who? Rex can have a mighty white beard and then look spry and blond simultaneously, there is teenager Omega and Boba sitting on his throne on Tatooine, so just don't worry about it XD Have three of my clone OCs as baby cadets and enjoy how cute they are instead.
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beeshoesometimesdraws · 2 months ago
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Pretty boy Lunar
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He’s very fun to color :)
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androgynouspenguinexpert · 2 months ago
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right away mr president
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fala-alfredo-pasta · 3 months ago
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A very self indulgent tatted and pierced up Ichimatsu thas it
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unexpectedbrickattack · 1 year ago
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peppino studies...hes got such a cute face and i feel like im straying away from it
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maximura · 6 months ago
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suddenly-frankenstein · 7 months ago
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so uh i just drew some random modern!AU (university AU maybe) Clerval and Frankenstein design???
(i hate myself so i did it in acrylic yeah, better click on pic for slightly better quality)
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grif-hawaiian-rolls · 13 days ago
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Is this canon? Technically no.
Is it even In character? Absolutely not!
Do I care? Not really!
Locus is my blorbo and i can put him in annoying situations, like having a small squad of annoying but just-good-enough-to-not-kill-them Feds, if i want to
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jalo-parker · 4 months ago
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I did not mean to make my sonas void form this tall canonically 💀 (I'm keeping it though) (hes 9ft tall btw)
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My sona is a shapeshifter btw. Hels is very used to seeing it's 'normal' form so the massive 9ft tall one was a bit of a surprise
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sysig · 1 year ago
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Betty’s Wish (1/?) (Patreon)
It’s definitely weird that Betty, with all her Magical abilities, never met a Wishmaster, right? I think so
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#My art#Comic#Adventure Time#Prismo#Betty Grof#Oh this is much bigger than I'm used to lol - feel free to open in a new tab#My big project! Here it is! :D Or at least the first piece of it lol#I worked on quite a lot of it through Requestober - or at least the digital cleans lol#If you'll recall my ''This has gotten way out of hand'' posts about Winter and the like - yeah it was actually this lol#And that was just the roughs! This became my warmup project for the remainder of RQTR 2023 lol#It definitely worked! All the way around! I got lots of panels done in short order and got my warmups in for the day#These are mostly drawn right on top of my original sketches - other than adding Betty's kerchief#I would've gone over her hair to make her more on-model but hrnnghhh hair fun to drawww#This is my happy medium compromise lol#Prismo was also a treat to work on ♪ He's vectors as you can probably tell :)#And I still looooove working with vectors ahhhhhh <3 <3 They're so fun to manipulate and move around#I can change his expressions so quickly! Very enjoyable to work with :D#Hehe ♪ He's also not confined to the panels the same way Betty is :)#Anyhow! I have Several more of these planned but for now I'm just happy I finally have this one :D#For reference this is set before the end of Adventure Time - obvs since Betty looks like this - but also kinda not lol#Y'know how it is with time and paradoxes and stuff :)#Even Prismo knows ♪ He probably knows best of all actually hehehe
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fahbev · 1 year ago
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Envy.
In other words, Part 5 of drawing Damian in cool poses I found on Pinterest.
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moe-broey · 8 hours ago
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ALSO NEITHER OFTHOSE GYYS ARE TWINKS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ ALFONSE IS A FUCKING TWINK!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
#sorry just yelling it louder for the rest of the class. about that poll.#okay this is my evil autism that makes me hostile to life itself showing but. i get SO MAD AT THAT SHIT LMFAOOOOO#YOU'RE MISCATEGORIZING THEM. listen we do NOT have a lot of body diversity here in feh but#you can't call lif a fucking TWINK are you Fucking Kidding Me. that man is the embodiment of twink death.#god. some fucking people will call anyone a fucking twink. as if it isn't a word with a specific meaning#of specific gay subculture. and AGAIN we Do Not have a lot of body diversity but you have to judge this Comparitively.#alfonse as the reference point. sharena's own words 'he's kinda slender actually'. he's smaller in frame#when you compare him to hrid. hrid is broader. presumably more muscular. visibly anyway.#he takes up more space. you get the sense that he's a bigger guy IF ONLY for the fact that Average Man Alfonse#is smaller than him. also alfonse's youthful appearance also part of twinkish qualities. okay.#you look at hrid and alfonse and tbh they're probably about the same age. but it's about the Appearances#and then you have lif. canonically several years ahead of alfonse. he has Aged. how much? normal amount. probably.#but case and point his body has filled out more OR hel fucked up the resurrection job. either or#but any which way all routes lead to twink death. lif is NOT a twink. you call lif a twink in my presence ever again#and i'm fucking . well. i'm not gonna do anything bc i am so nicies. but you're wrong.#okay. i was gonna settle in but i just. had to get that out of my system.
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quirkle2 · 10 months ago
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who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)
His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.
The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.
The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.
Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.
Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.
Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.
He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.
Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.
He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”
Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.
He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.
They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.
Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.
Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.
He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.
It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.
He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.
If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.
He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.
Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.
He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.
He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.
The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.
His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.
Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.
Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.
Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.
Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.
His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.
Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.
Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.
Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.
Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.
The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.
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roverdraws · 1 month ago
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I have been loving all of your designs and takes on the characters so far. But there is a specific captain I'm very excited to see in your verse:
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ohhhhh thank you so much!!! I'm still figuring out Don Karnage- clothes are a huge part of his character design and clothes are hard to draw 😭 but here's a sketch of ideas I had so far, clothes aside
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I imagine the bent ear is the result of a piratey fight injury and extended it into a scar bc how cool does that look (exact scar design not settled yet tho). also he has earrings now of course
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