#thanks for asking darling!

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

uno reverse miss patchy!! what pokemon would be on your and sero’s teams? 🎤

SO glad you asked!! Now, I don't know much about Pokemon in terms of like stats or what goes well with what or whats the strongest, I just go off vibes! So if this team sucks well.... apologies.!

But Sero strikes me as a Normal and Bug/Grass trainer, so he's pretty split when it comes to that; so his team would be Girafarig, Obstagoon, Kleavor, Galvantula, Volcarona, and Leafeon

Now despite the peddler sorta theme and vibe everyone gives, Patchy ain't all that witchy! And in fact, is very much drawn to the cutesy fire types and fairy ones! So expect me to be mainly a Fire/Fairy trainer with Flareon, Arcanine, Delphox, Phanpy, Togekiss, and Alola Ninetales

And if it was us battling as a pair I think this would be the mashup: Delphox, Kleavor, Togekiss, Volcarona, Ninetales, and Leafeon

[kickassfu]

I had a nightmare about you? I wanna know more

oh hey buddy :3 it's a prompt that was sent to me from one of those posts on tumblr that I reblogged, when I begged for some and then i started writing it and didn't finish it LOL

i think it was an attempt to hold onto the steddie (steve and eddie from stranger things) fixation.

and honestly the prompt ( “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”) is so good and right up my alley. I only wrote a lil bit, but ya gotta love the hurt comfort of it all am i right? lol:

Eddie startles awake by the sound of his telephone loudly ringing in the night. He’d be angry if not for the sensation that the call saved him from a far worse fate. Only the memory of teeth ripping into flesh remains, the nightmare itself long gone from his conscious brain. He feels more zombie than man as he gets up to pick up the screaming phone, dragging himself over with the strength of a dying man just wanting the noise to stop, just for the small chance to fall back asleep.

[eunnieboo]

i've been working on my next graphic novel! it'll be another sapphic romance. please look forward to it ❤️

[reinbouxsworld]

I’ve come to the startling realisation that Crowley looks similar to Muzan. They even have the same hat. The white hat Crowley wears with his vacation outfit, not his usual tophat.

OMG YES.

I realized it when I started studying the panels, and than I had to mentally elaborate on Crowley for this au or esle he would be just a copy-paste of muzan (visually) THO I still think sus they look so much like each other on canon media???? What's wrong with white hat and pretty curls????? EVEN THEIR CLOTHES!

That's just a side line, but I really like to think on Crowley having bird like features? It's not like on a beastman way but more on a "bird faes have longer features" type of thing, plus I LIVE for the natural gothic features of the dark faes

[syntheticsymp]

Omg u can't just drop the fact that Krueger knows about niktos girl and not elaborate on it 😭 like did this guy just break in the house and found out /jj

Yes I’m so glad you noticed!! I try to make it a common theme throughout all my Nikto fics that Krueger knows about her, and Nikto absolutely hates it. They might be kind of/sort of friends, but Krueger is a different breed of crazy. I got a little carried away and wrote for this because I love the break in idea—

TW: attempted sexual assault (which was stopped) and Krueger. A continuation of the Nikto fics I've been posting on here recently. Unedited, as always

Krueger’s known about Nikto’s ‘pet’ for a while now. It wasn't really hard to figure out, since he knew where to look. And Krueger was nothing if not a nosy bastard.

The first giveaway was Nikto’s phone. They were standard issue at KorTac, everyone was required to have one in case of emergency. Never once had Nikto opened it, nor had he bothered to learn how to use it. So, when he suddenly seemed to check it more often, of course Krueger grew suspicious.

He attempted to snatch the phone on multiple occasions. Nikto kept it unlocked, since he had no clue how to enable the password feature. The only picture on his camera roll was blurry, taken by an unsteady hand that clearly didn't know what it was doing. It was of you, your face tilted to the side as you were doing... something. He couldn't really tell. And the more he tried to decipher the photo, the more he believed that it had just been a fluke. A picture taken completely by accident.

From what little Krueger could see, he still knew you could do better than Nikto's deformed face. Not to mention his personality, which was just as horrid. Another poor, unfortunate soul that fell into bloody hands.

Normally, he would have left it at that. Nikto finally had a good whore to go back to, good for him. He would have assumed Nikto killed the girl immediately after.

But then there were the texts. At least once a day, the annoying, standard ringtone blared from the little black phone. Then Nikto would stop everything just to reply.

It was weird.

So Krueger formed a plan. It was flawless. Next time Nikto checked his phone, he'd snatch it and flip through the chats. Surely, if he had a toy stashed away Nikto would have told him. They were partners, after all.

But, as soon as Krueger tried, Nikto quickly threw his phone to the ground and smashed it under his heel. The big baby was always so dramatic.

Now, Krueger was more curious than ever. Nikto had a secret, and he'd stop at nothing to unearth it.

Flash forward to Thursday night. There was yet another long debrief. Krueger didn't care to listen. As long as he'd get to kill, he wouldn't complain about their next mission. And if they did well, they would retain the freedom of having a life outside of KorTac. An absolutely terrible idea on management's part, but he wasn't about to complain. Not when it gave him the perfect opportunity to sneak out a few moments before Nikto and scope out his home. Simple recon, that was all.

Nikto was taken aside with Konig while the rest of the operatives were dismissed. That meeting would no doubt end with Nikto blowing up at the Austrian man, most likely bashing his face in again. He never could stand Konig. But that gave Krueger a headstart.

Finding Nikto's house was far easier than breaking in. It was a surprisingly nice cottage far out from everything else, just within the parameters of where he was allowed to live. Surrounded by trees, there was enough covering for this place to go unnoticed. Entering through the front door was not an option, Krueger knew that Nikto had definitely installed a stupid amount of locks, and probably rigged some sort of trap or two.

So, he went through the back window. It was a challenge to get in, and fuck, if Krueger didn't love a challenge. It simply meant that the treat locked away had to be worth the effort. You had to be so sweet if Nikto kept you hidden like this.

After shimmying inside, Krueger took his time walking around the house. It was nice, he had to admit. KorTac's salary was unrivaled, especially considering the missions they gave to their operatives. It seemed Nikto's paycheck went to this place, Russian books and tiny knick-knacks decorating the shelves. There was no way in hell Nikto bought the latter for himself, confirming his suspicions. Someone else lived here.

Unlike in his stealth missions, Krueger touched everything, acquainting himself with his partner's living space. He missed the days when Nikto lived on base with him, locked away in a small cell across the way from his. Nikto could pretend all he wanted, but this ‘home’ he created would never be real. It was all a sad, desperate facade for a life he would never have. Krueger didn't care to play house, even if he had his own toy locked away, he was only using Lucas for sex. Nikto clearly gave you a higher role.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he was in the living room until it was too late. Soft breathing lured him in, a lullaby whispering to him to suffocate the breath for good. Krueger never could keep his hands to himself.

You were curled up, asleep on the couch, waiting for Nikto like a well-behaved pet. The blurry photograph Krueger had seen did not do you justice. He'd have to show Nikto how to get the good angles, making sure to spread your legs for the camera so he could see the perfect moment when he thrusted in. Yeah, Nikto was due for a good lesson. And with a thing as pretty as you, why wouldn't he want to keep your pussy in his pocket at all times?

Krueger circled, stopping right infront of you before crouching down to your height. It was truly a shame you were rotting away with such an ugly man. While he was here, he might as well give you a taste of what you were missing.

"Wakey wakey!" The loud, accented chirp echoed through the room.

You shot straight up, eyes bleary and hair a mess. You looked around the room wildly before your gaze finally landed on him.

"You're not Nik..." The realization came slow. Then, all at once. You kicked yourself back, scrambling over the back of the couch in an attempt to flee.

Only for Krueger to catch you by the ankle and pull you back to the cushions. “Oh, you're smart,” he mocked.

"Let go of me!" You screeched as you thrashed wildly. "Nikto will kill you! Get away!"

He laughed at your struggle, the sound airy as if he were with a friend rather than scaring the shit out of you. Nikto always preferred obedience, acceptable, but Krueger? He favored the girls who fought.

"I'm sure he will," Krueger hummed. "But why don't we have a little fun beforehand, ja?"

Tears were already starting to fall down your cheeks. Why hadn't Nikto told him he had such a pretty crier locked away? It was so unfair. Krueger would have been more than willing to offer his partner on the field a taste of his toy, Lucas, at home. They were supposed to be a team, the two resident psychos of KorTac. Hiding secrets was never a part of the deal.

"I want you to leave," you said quietly, but coherently. So you were using your words. Nikto truly did train you well.

"Well, that doesn't really matter, now does it?" Keeping one hand on your stomach so you'd stay pushed down, he used the other to push the heel of your foot against the bulge in his pants. It had been there since he was shown the footage of his last kill at KorTac. Nothing quite did the trick like gore. "Nikto, you see, he is like a brother to me. Does it not seem right for him to share his toys?"

You attempted to kick his balls, which he blocked, moving your foot away from his cock. He continued with a tut, "Nein, nein. None of that. Just giving a quick inspection."

As he tried to pry your legs apart to see what Nikto had been so desperate to protect, you wouldn't stop fighting. You were surprisingly strong, most likely from the times you fought off Nikto when he first stole you away. Krueger had thought Nikto would have beaten all the fight out of you by now. Surely you didn't think you belonged to him alone, did you?

You were screaming now, too. Nearly making Krueger's ears bleed. "Quiet, bitch."

"He'll kill you!" you spat in his face, hair mussed by the couch cushions. "Nikto will fucking kill you if you don't get off me!"

Krueger laughed. "You truly think you mean that much to him? You're just a toy, Schatz."

You started to shake as more tears fell. Shit. Krueger recognized what happened in an instant. You were going hysterical. This place, your situation, had caused you to teeter to the the edge. And Krueger had accidentally given you the final shove. Nikto was totally going to kill him.

As if on cue, the door swung open. And out came the man you kept whining so insistently about.

Krueger let go of you, allowing you to scramble to close your legs as he gave Nikto a shit-eating grin. "There you are, big guy. We were just talking about you—”

Nikto was on him in a second, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him against the nearest wall. A method of killing they both shared. The brutal asphyxiation made Krueger hornier, if that was even possible. He really should check in with a doctor or psychologist about a way to fix the 'compulsive sexual disorder' his last shrink diagnosed him with.

When Nikto finally spoke, it was a single word.

"Leave."

He didn't bother sugarcoating, he never had and he never will. Nikto was the same overly competitive, overly territorial man Krueger knew on the field. A mirror image of himself. It was intoxicating.

The pressure on his throat made it hard to respond, but that didn't stop Krueger from trying. "No way to... welcome guests... to your home."

Nikto would have been content to kill him and they both knew it. They had been in this situation various times before, just on opposite ends of the knife. They were brothers in arms, fellow psychos. Even if they were the same, they would not hesitate to kill each other. That had been clear since they had first been partnered up.

And oh, hadn't Nikto been so close to killing Krueger. They were the same in so many ways, lacking boundaries and sanity. But they showed it in very different ways.

It may have been another spirit that possessed Nikto at that moment, or perhaps your terrified expression, because he dropped Krueger, who didn't so much as flinch during the whole interaction.

"Why did you come here?" Nikto asked, crossing his arms and standing directly infront of you, blocking you from Krueger's line of sight. You were still on the couch, confused by the man in your home, and terrified of what he almost did to you.

"Why'd you hide such a pretty toy from me?" Krueger countered, shooting you a wink you didn't even seem to register.

Nikto did not return the playful tone. There were many reasons he could give, but the answer was pretty simple. Nikto didn't like Krueger knowing about you. Not because he didn't trust you, but because he didn't trust Krueger. He's watched the man jerk off to dead bodies on the field, he knew Krueger kept pictures of the bloody corpses of women he bedded. So yeah, Nikto tried to keep you under wraps. Nikto may be a violent nutjob, but Krueger would tear you apart and leave nothing left. At least Nikto took care of his pets.

Nikto had to look up at Krueger to meet his eye. He muttered a single, sharp insult. "You are filth. You do not deserve her.”

Krueger scoffed. "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

Things were quickly turning ugly. Neither man had enough impulse control to back down from a fight. Neither had ever *lost* a fight to begin with. And Nikto had no qualms beating a man to a bloody pulp infront of you, especially after what he walked in on. You had seen him do much worse.

Surprisingly, it was Krueger who conceded, leaning against the wall like he owned the place. "Alright, I'll back off. For you, Bruder."

That was most likely a lie. Krueger was never content with his own toys, he wanted to take others, too. Break them until they were unusable. He was greedy and sadistic, which is what made him such a good killer.

For all the shit Nikto put you through, somehow, he was still better than Krueger. You were still curled in on yourself, not yet coming to terms with the mindfuck of what happened in a matter of minutes, or how Krueger was casually walking to the window without a care in the world. Apparently, once you got used to one psycho, another, worse one appeared in his place.

“Come over for tea sometime,” Krueger said, throwing a sleazy smile over his shoulder, offering a wave as he jumped out the back window. “I’m sure my Lucas would love to have a little playdate."

You prayed to whatever god would listen that you never saw that man again. If he was the alternative to Nikto, you were happy to stay in your little prison, picking up the scraps of comfort you were offered.

Or perhaps that had been Krueger's plan all along. You’d spend the whole night in Nikto’s arms, crying and clinging to him. He was doing his friend a favor, strengthening your dependence so you would never feel enticed to leave. It was the least he could do for Nikto, after all, they had been partners for so long.

[blindmagdalena]

honestly i love imagining the reader trying to ride homelander for the first time and him moaning/being overstimulated when she sits on him and her forgetting who he is for a second and going 'shit, did i hurt you?' and him just. being so conflicted by that phrase. of course a human can't ever hurt him and you should watch your tone but also... it's nice you care so much for him. makes him feel cared for, in a way

18+! Given the sounds he makes, no one could blame you for mistaking one for pain. That sharp gasp and the breathless keening moan that follows it.

"Oh fuck," you breathe, hand braced on his bare chest, legs tightly bracketing his hips. He's sweltering beneath you, holding your hips in trembling hands. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

He opens his pleasure-bleary eyes, confused.

It'd be laughable if he wasn't so delirious. You? Hurt him? No, it's another matter entirely. He's accustomed to his gloves and his padded suit acting as a barrier to the world, to the overwhelm of sensation, but he has none of that when he's beneath you.

He's completely at the mercy of the wet, clenching heat of you. It's a betrayal of his stamina that he becomes too sensitive to continue long before he's finished with you.

"What? No, nngh, it's... y'just... y'just feel really fucking good," he says, nearly chokes on that last word. "Too good. So much. It's so much."

"Do you want to stop?" You ask, touching his jaw. Your thumb strokes his cheek and he moans for the tenderness of it. For the care. He'd begun to think there wasn't anyone who could witness what he's capable of and still think to treat him gently.

"No! No, just... just stay... Stay like this," he says, holds you still while he recovers.

You oblige him—you always do—and bend over to kiss him. Your lips are slow and loving against his, coaxing. You cup his face with both hands and sit with him inside you, feeling you, tasting you. It's torturous bliss. He slips his tongue into your mouth, greedy for as much as he can get despite the magnitude of it all, and you lick right back into his.

With a smile, you sink down until your chests are pressed together. His hands slide up your back and he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, needing you more than he's never needed anything in his life. Your lips are like velvet against his, slick with spit and kiss swollen. It's so much more than he's ever had, so much more than he knows how to handle.

He comes just like that, without having to move a muscle, his cry swallowed up by your dreamy kisses.

[theorist-fox]

Do you have any tips for writing Simon's accent? I love your writing btw

MMMM this is an interesting ask!

In my guide (which is not professional at all, but eh, it's something) I linked a few resources I use for English/British English (step 8, specifically).

When it comes to British idioms, I definitely ask for help—for example, "How would you say X in British English?" or "How do you think Simon would say it—Manchester accent/dialect and all that?"

I read a lot of fan fiction when I have time, and I've found certain authors who write Simon's accent in a way that makes me hear his voice in my head.

For example, @/shotmrmiller truncates Simon’s dialogue in a way that just hits right, or @/xoxunhinged (who’s British!) delivers his lines in a way I love. @/void-my-warranty taught me to chop off as much of his dialogue as possible—which fits his character perfectly since he’s blunt and not very chatty (unless he’s happy).  They also made a guide on writing Simon’s character that’s super helpful! @/mayyourbaconburn has one of the most in-character Ghosts I’ve ever read, and their dialogue is spot-on every time. Highly recommend their stories! @/bitterrfruit writes a harsher Simon, way more blunt and spiteful—dialogues always tickle me just right in her stories too!

If while reading you can hear Simon's VA saying those things, then you hit jackpot.

When I don’t want to bother people with my questions, I listen to British dialogues (movies, YouTube videos, podcasts) or rewatch the game's cutscenes (which are easy to find on YouTube). Then, I focus on how certain words are pronounced.

I tend to drop:

"H"s at the beginning of words (e.g., "Come 'ere" or, if murmured, "C'mere" since the aspiration on the h is barely audible).

"T"s in the middle of words (e.g., "Swee'heart"—once again, I can't hear the T being pronounced).

"T"s at the end of words (e.g., "Alrigh'?" or "Tha'"—see above ^).

I truncate words such as:

"For" -> "F'" ("For me?" -> "F'me?"),

"It's" -> "'s" ("It's alright" -> "S'alrigh'"),

"To" -> "T'" ("Don't have to do it" -> "Don't have t'do it")

"You" -> "Ya", or "Y'", occasionally "Ye" ("Did you hear me?" -> "Did ya hear me?", or, "Y'hear?")

Basically, I learn from other writers and listen to British people talking—bonus points if they're from Northern England (Manchester area; sort of north-....west?).

That said, even though Simon is canonically from Manchester, multiple sources have told me his accent doesn’t really match the area… so yeah, do with that what you will 😆

I would also like to add that you can write an accent or a dialect without dropping letters or modifying the word—most of the time it's how the line is delivered that makes the dialogue believable!

So, my advice would be... read fan fiction, read books (@/legityoots recently recommended a romcom with a love interest from Manchester, called When Grumpy Met Sunshine), talk to native speakers if you can, and consume media in your free time!

And remember, Ghost literally has about five voice lines across three games, so you can write him however you like. Canon personality is as flat as the coffee table in your living room.

Good luck, and have fun writing! 🧡

[pigdemonart]

Hello! May I ask how Hei Hei is doing? And pls give the little cute void floof some pets for us? 🥺

HE IS GOOD, LUMPY AND LARGE-EARED

My sweet boy who pukes spit when anxious because I am taking too long in the shower

My sweet boy who is shedding and has left a black spot of hair in the corner of our bed

My sweet boy who angrily demands cuddle time DONT TOUCH ME…. i’m gonna lie on your lap and purr BUT DONT PET TOO MUCH….

[greykolla-art]

We need more of the werewolf girlfriend. (Pretty please?)

Oh no, Don’t ask about my foster oc’s I can’t be normal about them!😱❤️

Her name is Mús (mouse) and I’m still trying to nail down her design!😂

Here she is with her tiny bastard boyfriend ,Vespríus.👇

My author friend created them so they are just my foster children, but I love them so much!

[shrimparts-blog888]

In my meme era 💅

[dreammeiser]

🌈Dream Along With Me FAQ!☁️

Hello, Hi! I decided to do a little FAQ since I get a lot of the same questions in my ask box! Beware... I have the tendency to yap... I will update this from time to time as more questions pop up!

✨ Question: What made you want to make DAWM? 🌈 Answer: So when I was very young, I had landed an internship at Jim Henson's, but I wasn't feeling satisfied with my work there, it wasn't scratching that creative itch. That's not to speak ill of it, when you're an intern you're not given that many tasks that are "higher stakes", that's just standard at a studio. When I was talking to my pops about this, he recommended I make the project I wished I was working on. Earl (full name Early Early Oxenfree) was my character that I was fixated on at the time, so I decided to give him a story and make him some friends. Take a gander at some of the (non-spoiler) concept work I started out with :oD (Don't worry, one day I'll show the other concepts when I can)

Pictured: Top Left: First version of Earl, circa August 2009. Top Right: June 2012 Earl Redesign. Bottom Left: Creature Doodles, Character Concepts, Earl Concept Doodle on Music Box. Bottom Right: Fiona Character Sheet (then called "Nautica" but scrapped the name because I didn't like it), circa 2018. ✨ Question: Why dreams and puppets? 🌈 Answer: Because I like them 😆

✨ Question: Is this an ARG/Mascot Horror? 🌈 Answer: No, it's an indie animated series :o)

✨ Question: Is this going to be like Five Nights at Har Har's? 🌈 Answer: No 😂 but if you enjoy that you might like DAWM?

✨ Question: Why does Archie have blue hair/yellow skin? 🌈 Answer: Because I like that combo. 😆 I mean why not? That's my favorite blue-- it's the same blue as my bird, Kraken! The choices for Archie's sweater and pants would've been a nightmare to track in animation so I had to go with something more simple. Yellow happens to be a skintone in 80s animated television that was popular at the time because of how eye-catching it was. I'm not going to make him look worse than he could be just because Marge Simpson or Yellow Guy or Sid the Science Kid or Joy from Inside Out did it first, that would be bad character design, babey! Primary colors are timeless and iconic combo for good reason. They're eye-catching and give contrast with colors in their simplest form, which is one reason they're prevalent in childrens' animated media and "kidcore" aesthetics.

Pictured: Left: Various Archie sweaters and pants combos. We ended up picking the blue and pastel striped pants with the plain cream sweater. Right: A photo of Kraken enjoying cheek rubbies

✨ Question: You worked at Jim Henson's?! What did you do there? 🌈 Answer: Yes! I was inducted as a muppet in summer of 2010! Kidding, I was just an intern. I was assigned to paint UV Texture Maps for paintings and props in the background. I also... modeled a pumpkin for their Halloween episode... One 😂 You can see one of my paintings in "Sleep? Who Needs It?!". It's a little funny because they picked the one painting (of three I made for this episode) I was not proud of... But uh, I also got to color one of the pages for the Archaia Dark Crystal comic and that was really cool <:o)

Pictured: Top: The painting used in the episode "Sleep? Who Needs It?!" and how it appeared in show. Middle: The unused other painting options. Bottom: From Left to Right, Texture I painted on a Teapot used in show. An unused UV Map for a cereal box. One colored page out of the Archaia Dark Crystal comic.

✨ Question: Why does Roy have 5 fingers on one hand and 6 fingers on the other? 🌈 Answer: It's all the better to high-five you with, silly! His handshakes are one finger friendlier! ;oD Hehe okay but silliness aside, when I was designing Roy, he was meant to look unsettling and off-putting to funnily contrast his sunny disposition, and was aware that folks judge people that are born a little different (it's unfortunate and honestly sucks but that's a whole other can of worms). One of the things I did was give him an entirely different finger count-- It was to make a little fun of gen A/I, which is unsettling and off-putting itself. Later though, folks pointed out he could be polydactyly representation. I love Roy and think that's actually pretty cool!

✨ Question: What were your inspirations for DAWM? 🌈 Answer: The Muppets, Sesame Street, Osamu Tezuka's works, and Moomin were some animated/puppet media off the top of my head that always stuck with me my whole life and have influenced my retro inspired work the most. They all had such sweetness and charm to them, and all felt like a found family :o) My favorite trope. Puppets were also just deeply meaningful to me because they were physical forms of creativity and childlike wonder you could hold and play with! I thought whenever you made one, you put a little bit of your heart and soul into them.

I wanted the Dreamalong Gang to have the charm of Jim Henson's and Tove Jansson's characters, but I wanted them to have the humor and intrigue of Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, and Welcome to Night Vale. DHMIS and Night Vale actually inspired the story the most because they were both a really nice mix of absurdist humor and horror! Sleep Paralysis Demons were a point of intrigue for me that I thought were perfect for a Dreamscape setting, so I started working on including those.

I will mention too that seeing Welcome Home encouraged me to post my art again, seeing it made me feel nostalgic, but also incredibly happy to see people appreciate Muppet-inspired art again <:o) I fully intended to just keep all of this to myself because being in the public eye is spooky, but I know that's something I wanted to change, so I just started throwing spaghetti at the wall... this time, with feeling!

Pictured: Top Left: Sesame Street Illustration done by Maggie Swanson! Top Right: Muppets Illustration done by Joe Ewers! Second Row Left to Right: Over the Garden Wall, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared. Third Row Left to Right: Gravity Falls, Welcome to Night Vale. Fourth Row Left to Right: Astro Boy, Moomin (1990) ✨ Question: What programs/apps do you use to make your animations and paintings? 🌈 Answer: So for paintings, I use Adobe Photoshop and I experiment between animating with Adobe Photoshop, TVPaint, and Toonboom Harmony. I have been animating more with Toonboom lately though! For editing programs, I have been using either Adobe After Effects or Premiere Pro. I used to use Capcut, but they put a lot of effects I used under a paywall >:o0 Peepee....

✨ Question: Is yumeshipping/self-shipping allowed? 🌈 Answer: As long as everyone being shipped is a consenting adult, it's all good. Have fun :oD

✨ Question: Can I draw fanart/cosplay as one of your characters? 🌈 Answer: YES... My team and I love seeing fanart and we've been dying to see some cosplays! 😭 I would only say, don't send it to me if it is NSFW leaning, please 👁️👁️

✨ Question: Can we have a Content Warning List? 🌈 Answer: Yes! I may update this from time to time if it changes, if that's alright, but as far as what has been planned/written... Here are the trigger warnings so far:

Body Horror, Friend Loss/Death, Neglect, Religious Horror, Abusive Households, Blood/Slight Gore, Cleithrophobia (fear of being trapped), Suicidal Ideations, Depersonalization/Derealization (these are kinda/sorta... it's hard to explain without spoiling), Oneirophrenia (Dream-Reality Confusion), Manipulation/Brainwashing, Disorientation.

These are honestly tentative as well, I don't want to be doing something someone else is doing accidentally 0o:>

✨ Question: What were your inspirations for the characters? 🌈 Answer: Here's the inspiration boards for them :o)

✨ Question: Do you have boundaries surrounding the project? 🌈 Answer: Oh, I mean kinda? It's just something to be aware of, I know not everyone will be respectful but I appreciate the people that make the effort <:o) Thanks for asking! I'll paste them in from my Instagram Stories.

✨ Question: When will we get the pilot episode? 🌈 Answer: It's hard to know when or have an exact date, but I can tell you we currently have a goal of releasing the teaser for it by end of this year. Our goal is to have the pilot out next year :o)

✨ Question: Where can we best follow your work? 🌈 Answer: I mostly update on my instagram through posts and stories. 0o:

✨ Question: What's the best way to support DAWM? 🌈 Answer: Memberships and one-off donations on my Ko-Fi go towards myself and our team. We're thinking of a GoFundMe or Kickstarter to fund the pilot... Not sure yet <:o0 But for now, Ko-Fi helps a lot. Thank you so much for asking 😭💖 So far, you've all helped pay for voice work and puppet materials, we appreciate you so much <:o)

✨ Question: BUT ARE THEY GAY/HOW OLD ARE THEY/HOW TALL-- 🌈 Answer: Yes yes and yes Archie - He/Him, early 30s, Biromantic. 5'10" Mae - She/Her, early 30s, Panromantic. 5'5" Earl - He/Him/They/Them, late 20s, Demi/Pan. 5'7" Honeybell - She/Her, late 30s, Ace. 2'11" Fiona - She/Her, early 20s, likes women. 6'2" Mufflin - He/Him, late 30s, likes men. 6'7" Teddy - He/Him/They/Them, late 30s, Panromantic. 6' Bertie - He/Him, mid 30s, Grey, likes women. 8'5" Lunette - She/They/He, mid 20s, Panromantic. 5'6" Oddrey - She/Her, early 30s, Biromantic. 5'8" Roy - He/Him, late 30s, ???. 5'6"

[lizaisdrawing]

AAAAAAAA 😭😭😭😭 PLZ PLZ PLZ DRAW MORE OF WALLY WITH HIS HAIR LIKE THAT IN THE DAYCARE DRAWING ITS SO BEAUTIFUL, ILL GIVE YOU MY SOUL AND MY MONEY AND MY HAIR AND MY HANDS, all of your drawings are just faNTASTIC❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hand them over NOW

[kyoukorpse]

THE KING OF LET EVERYONE DRESS CUTE CAME TO YOUR CULT

😭😭😭 OH MY GOODNESS,,, 💕💕

[blindmagdalena]

I’m so sorry Amy this is NASTY but from the moment I saw the chest fuzz on HL my first thought was how sensitive it would make the nips when fucking cause of the texture

18+ homelander x reader. boob stuff, body hair appreciation, overstimulation, flying sex, cream pie. never apologize to me i will always make it nastier. 🖤

At first the brush of it is divine. It wrings a gasp from low in the back of your throat, has you kneading the taut muscles of his back while he pounds into you. Homelander's body hair isn't overly coarse, but it hardly matters when his chest is pressed flush to yours, his lips on your throat.

You feel his every huff and whimper more than you hear them. They pair perfectly with the desperate grip he has on your hips, holding you in place with his whole body as he fucks you against the ceiling.

Now the grind of his chest against yours is beginning to take a toll. You shiver with his every move, growing more and more tender with the friction. Your cunt quivers tight around his cock and he stifles a hot moan into the crook of your neck.

His cock, more thick than long and nicely curved, strokes that sweet spot inside you that strikes stars behind your eyelids with every snap of his hips. You fist your hand in his hair and pull until his lips meet yours.

"Fuck," he gasps against your lips, threads of saliva snapping between your hungry mouths. "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Don't blame me for that," you respond breathlessly, licking right back into his mouth. "You were there when I got here."

He grins, giving a ravenous little growl and a sharp thrust. "Fine. Crazier."

The two of you climax like that, entwined and floating high off the ground, your ascension halted only by the height of the ceiling. Only once the aftershocks fade out does Homelander begin to sink back down to the bed. You feel as if you're in the clouds, floating on euphoria and his warm, soft body.

Still trembling, you lift yourself up. This is how you had started; astride him, riding him until the wild bucks of his hips had lifted you both up, up, up.

You smooth your hands down your own chest, goosebumps erupting everywhere. You give his pec a slap, the thwap of it dulled by the padding of hair. "You rug burned my whole chest," you chastise, though your tone is colored by your smile.

He sucks in a breath, contemplating the condition of your skin as he blows out a raspberry. He cups your breasts in gentle hands and pushes them together and up, meeting the pearl-soft flesh of them with his lips. He kisses apologies all over each one, flicking his tongue over your nipples for the way you gasp and tug his hair when he does.

His spent cock, still buried deep inside you, throbs valiantly as he sucks one breast into his mouth, tonguing your nipple in slow circles. You shudder and grind down in retaliation, the both of you hyper-sensitive, moving leisurely against one another as your satiation passes and the need for more grows.

You ride him slow and deep until he comes again. You rub your clit to the feel of his mouth on your chest and his come dripping out of you until you, too, orgasm, the tight spasm of your cunt reducing the most powerful man in the world to a simpering mess between your thighs.

The two of you untangle your limbs only to jigsaw right back together, his back to your sensitive chest, your arms around him, fingers scratching through the very hair you complained about.

"I could start waxing again," he says, words lazily slurring together.

"Don't you dare," you murmur, nuzzling the spot just behind his ear, kissing the shell of it. He interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to his chest. "You're perfect as is."

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You feel it in the slant of his lips when he presses the back of your hand to them.

[ak319]

I absolutely love ur platonic yandere Arthur fic!!

Also I wanted to ask what would happen when a dangerous situation arose in the camp and reader got caught in the middle and gotten shot or had an injury because of it.

💌 Tysm for reading and the ask! This one surely has the potential to be fluff!

The fire crackled softly as you sipped your (tea/coffee), lost in thought. It was around 6 p.m., and Arthur, Dutch, and a few others had gone out on a heist. Though you dreaded the nature of their work, you still found yourself hoping everything went smoothly, if only to keep them safe. You hated the thought of praying for your brother's return at the expense of others’ losses, yet a part of you couldn’t help but wish that the innocent came away unscathed.

With most of the gang out, the camp was quieter than usual, leaving just you, Pearson, Hosea, Annabelle, and John by the fire. But the unexpected arrival of shadowy figures made your stomach twist, the O' Driscoll boys. Tensions with them had been escalating, and now they stood at the edge of the camp, their expressions dark and unyielding.

Annabelle gripped your arm, pulling you close. “Stay by me,” she whispered, as Hosea and Pearson stepped forward, attempting to keep the peace. John joined them, his hand twitching near his belt, and you grimaced, knowing his quick temper could easily escalate things.

“(Y/N), get to your tent!” Annabelle hissed urgently, her grip tightening on your arm. Her voice was low, almost a growl. You both being still unnoticed by the men feet away in the dark.

“What? I’m not leaving you here alone-”

“I can handle myself. You’re not ready for this, but here, take this,” she said, pressing a revolver into your hands. “Just in case.”

You hesitated, then ducked back toward your tent, heart pounding. Once inside, you doused the lantern and crouched in the shadows, revolver aimed at the tent’s entrance. Every muffled insult and tense laugh outside made your pulse race as you waited, breath held, bracing for whatever might come.

Then, gunshots rang out, mingling with the frantic neighs of horses. Shit. Shit. The situation had escalated. Agony twisted through you, both mentally and physically, as you sat there in the pitch dark, clueless about what was unfolding outside. Your lips moved in silent prayers, hoping for everyone’s safety and Arthur’s swift return.

The tent flap flew open, and Annabelle’s distinct shout of protest echoed outside. You recoiled as a man stepped in, his eyes flashing with surprise when they landed on you. Before he could react, you squeezed the trigger without hesitation. The bullet struck his thigh, and he doubled over with a furious growl of pain.

"AGH! You bitch!" He lunged forward, and the man’s weight crashed onto you, knocking the air from your lungs. "Little rat," he snarled through the pain, his hands gripping your wrists with bruising force, forcing the revolver from your fingers. Panic clawed at you as you struggled beneath him, desperate to twist free. You kicked hard, aiming for his injured thigh, and he grunted, momentarily loosening his grip and punching your face twice in return.

"You got some nerve...maybe we can just take you with us."

Taking advantage of his distraction, you managed to wrestle one hand free and clawed at his face, your nails digging into his cheek. He cursed, reeling back, but his fist connected sharply with your ribs, sending a fiery shock of pain through your side. You gasped, the sound cut short as he pressed down harder, his hand fumbling for the revolver between you.

You thrashed, trying to pry the gun from his grip, both of you wrestling for control. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the revolver, and you tugged with all your might. But then, with a deafening crack, the gun went off, and pain seared through your shoulder as the bullet tore into you.

The shock overtook you first, numbness washing over your arm before the agony settled in, hot and blinding. The world spun as you gasped, fighting to stay conscious, but the weight of him bore down, and the pain was almost unbearable. Then a second shot resounded but this one targeted the man, killing him and his body instantly falling over, half of his body still on you.

"HEY! Oh, God! Ms. ANNABELLE! (Y/N) has been shot!" John shouted as he crouched beside you and soon Annabelle entered, the silence outside indicated that maybe it had ended, but you didn't have the strength to ask, your mind focused on the pain and the trauma of what had just occurred, making you lose your senses. Dimly, you heard Annabelle’s frantic voice somewhere outside the tent, yelling for help, but the darkness started to close in, dragging you under.

⋆⋆⋆

When Arthur returned to camp along with Dutch, Charles and Sean, he didn't even imagine that his day would end like this. That he would hear about an attack on the camp and that too when they weren't here, when he wasn't here. The happiness that had enveloped him due to the successful heist had diminished in a flick of a wrist, and on top of that, he got informed of what had happened with…you.

Arthur’s jaw clenched as he watched you lying there, fragile and bruised beneath Annabelle’s watchful gaze. The fury rising within him was unlike anything he’d felt before, a white-hot rage that blazed through every fibre of his being. It was one thing for these men to skirmish with him and the gang, to take potshots or swipe supplies. But this… this was different. They’d targeted the heart of his camp. They’d come after you, knowing full well you were defenseless. And that, he swore, would be the last mistake they'd ever make.

"She's…fine. She will be. I wanted to take her to the clinic but decided against it as it still might be unsafe out there so, I treated her here…"

He barely heard Annabelle’s voice as she spoke, her words filtering in slowly through the storm in his mind. Each shallow breath you took sounded louder to him than the gunfire he’d just come from. His fists balled tightly, his nails biting into his palms as his focus honed to a single thought, revenge.

Arthur spun around, his boots thudding heavily on the ground as he headed for the stables. He was blind to the concerned glances cast his way, blind to the way Dutch and Hosea turned in alarm as he tore through the camp with a single, furious purpose.

“Arthur! Where the hell you off to now?!” Dutch’s voice broke through the clamor of his rage, but Arthur didn’t slow down.

"Going to settle the score." He’d take every one of those bastards down, one by one if he had to. They’d pay for what they’d done, for the way they’d left you, his only real family, his anchor, his one solace in a life torn apart by violence. They attacked his fucking honour.

Arthur mounted his horse and gave Dutch a final look over his shoulder, his eyes fierce and dark with purpose. Without another word, he dug his heels in, spurring his horse into a gallop as he disappeared into the night, bound for blood.

Dutch watched him go, an uneasy grimace crossing his face. “Charles, go after him. Make sure he don’t do something stupid.”

Charles nodded grimly and saddled up. But even he knew there’d be no talking Arthur down tonight.

⋆⋆⋆

After wiping out the small hideout , which didn't take too long to find anyway. He came back and since then, he remained by your side, dismissing Annabelle.

Arthur sat close, his presence solid and grounding as if he could shield you from anything else that might harm you. His eyes, though softened now, held the shadows of all he’d gone through, the remnants of his own silent terror. He looked down at your hand, opening it with a gentleness that almost felt out of place.

It took him so much to bury the fear, of nearly losing you.

The one whose mischievous giggles annoyed him when you stole and hid his hat.

The one he showed his sketches to.

The one who tended to his wounds.

The only one who could bring that hint of his mother’s cooking.

“Here,” he murmured, pulling a small box from his pocket. “A gift.”

You blinked, lifting your gaze from your lap, a glint of curiosity breaking through your daze. He opened the box to reveal a simple yet precious pearl set, mirroring something he saw in you. But there was no escaping the knowledge of its likely origin, and you felt an old, familiar discomfort creeping up.

Before you could protest, he placed the box firmly in your hand, fingers closing over it in a silent insistence.

“It’s…I-”

“Shush. It’s yours.” He didn’t let you finish. It was the same line he always used, the one that seemed to erase the shadows of guilt whenever he brought you something from the spoils of his risky life, whether it be fruits, snacks or clothes.

“T-thank you,” you whispered, his rare smile easing some of the ache.

“I… I’m just so glad you’re safe,” he said, his voice rough as he squeezed your hand as if steadying himself as much as you. “I don’t even want to think…”

“This was bound to happen someday,” you managed to croak out, your voice scratchy yet resigned.

“No! No, it wasn't!” he argued, the tension in his voice unmistakable as he brushed a lock of hair from your face, his hand holding you steady. “I feel like… hell, like I let you down, and that just… just eats at me. I’m sorry, Chumchum." He knew that nickname annoyed you, but this time, it made you crack a smile. His grip tightened, and he leaned in, a promise in his silence, vowing to keep you safe at any cost.

“Not… your fault,” you murmured, voice faint but steady. “I’m… fine now.” Arthur nodded, a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around you in a gentle, side hug and placed a soft kiss on top of your head, careful to not cause you pain at the same time, holding you close as to make himself believe that you were here, safe and in the shelter of his arms. The warmth of his shoulder offered you a comfort you didn’t realize you’d been aching for, and before you knew it, you were crying softly, letting the weight of everything slip away against him. At that moment, he felt like a mixture of all the care you’d ever known, both fierce and gentle. Parental even.

"Don't worry, I fuckin took care of those bastards, did worse than what they did to you, won't even think of coming here ever again. Assholes." He was trying to comfort you in his own way, and somehow, this time, it worked.

For days afterwards, he hovered like a mother hen, fussing over every detail of your recovery. He made sure you rested, brought meals to your cot to feed you, and sat nearby for quiet company, even engaging in lighthearted bickering. And when he noticed the tension, took you for walks or even rides to town, be it the theatre or the circus. Whatever you wanted.

It felt so warm, like a blanket you hadn’t known you’d been missing until it was wrapped around you again. You saw how much he tried, how fiercely he watched over you, going out of his way to keep you steady. And in a way, you felt proud of him, too. You knew that, beneath the hardened shell of a man shaped by gunpowder and grit, he was still your brother.

(AN: Kay fun fact, so in English, Chum is like a petname, but in my language, Chumchum is the name of a sweet/dessert, lol.)

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.