#while drawing this sht

[sabh0]

shitpost bc apparently doing the requests isn't working against artblock, sorry chuuya is currently searching for his hat

[tblsomedoodles]

The Preferable Alternative - Part 8

Start - previous - next

: )

[ismyteadoneyet]

~ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇs ᴀ ᴍɪɢʜᴛʏ sᴡᴏʀᴅ,

ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴏʜ-ʟᴇɪ ᴏʜ-ʟᴀɪ ᴏʜ ʟᴏʀᴅ ~

FELLOW LEGENDBORNIANS !! I'M BACK !! I may not be very active in the Legendborn spaces, but that's because I STILL HAVEN'T READ OATHBOUND 😭😭 I miss my lil goofs so much 🥺

Life has really taken its toll on both me and my reading-buddy, and we're still slowly but surely making our way through Bloodmarked. I HAVE seen some fanarts already from the new book and I am SALIVATIINNNGGGG 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 I just know that once I actually crack that book open I will absolutely devour it djsbdbhsbdj 🤭🤭

And THEN the fanarts shall follow not so very close behind, trust 🫡🫡

I have SO MANY three-people pose pictures saved on pinterest for referencing-reasons, and this is the first one of the bunch! 🤭🥳

Hope y'all have a great day ! 🩷🩷🩷

[psalidodont]

having a new pc and not chugging trying to play minecraft on a singleplayer world with +60 mods feels like touching heaven pearly gates

[sirensea14]

Gurfrenzzzssss‼️

I love them, they'd kill me tho—

Fit: modern slay

[kellystar321]

.

[bulletsxlattes]

🍒🎨 Jason practice. thinking of doing some little jaytim comics & I realized I need to get my sht together and actually start drawing him consistently. im more happy with the bottom two than the top two but that just means: MORE PRACTICE SOON

Tim is always so much easier to draw because he has more 'iconic' hairstyles (long hair/ bowl cut). While I feel Jason is a bit more flexible and tends to change so often he's a new person with each drawing lol. But I am definitely keeping the white streak, no doubt. But long or short hair. its hard.

[yandereunsolved]

[devours every one of your self aware aus] Fantastic, I need about 30 more, especially the dc ones like omgggg 😫👏👏 I never knew I needed that au in my life until now, so thank you for my new strange addiction 🙏🙏

On self aware Jason I just want to spoil that broken lil mutt [affectionate]

I just want to reach in and pull him out, do some skincare, I can practically see him melting in my lap as I massage the product in watch some period dramas I’ve been putting off, listen to whatever he wants to vent about all the while curling that cute white streak in his hairrr 😭👌

Oh btw while I’ve been looking into your dc stuff [it’s fantastic btw, may your back never ache from carrying the weight of this creativity] i noticed that you write more for adult/older Damian, nothing wrong with that obv, but I’m so use to kid Damian 😅 I wanted to ask you which Damian do you like more? I can’t see Damian as anyone other than a kid tbh, plus I think he’s way funnier as a kid, like that friends sassy lil sibling that you can’t help but be fond of, yknow? Like, in my head he isn’t Damian Wayne, he’s Damian “that lil sht” Wayne 😅😅

Legit crying because of how sweet you are. 👏

Ah, life—if it wasn't so mean to me I'd literally have like 100's of fics on just the self-aware dc (and other fandoms) characters.

On the question of Damian Wayne—I enjoy the dynamics of younger Damian in comics, but I prefer writing older Damian.

Watching young Damian in media is just so fucking awesome and he's such a little shit and I love him. 😭💗

But naturally if I'm writing him in a romantic context he is going to be older. And I just prefer writing for his older version in general. It's make him a more nuanced and complex for when I write him. He has more to go on.

Like adult Damian still needing a comforting parental figure and finding reader??? Him becoming a yandere as he takes up the mantle of Batman? Mhm... mhm... MHM!

Adult Damian is so possessive over his darling and naturally it draws the attention of his family. Even being older the others still bully him and try to steal his darling.

Like it just opens up so many possibilities in my mind.

Maybe adult yan Damian thinks yan Bruce is dead so he takes up the mantle and also makes advances on Bruce's younger darling (who is basically near Damian's age). So Damian gets Bruce's darling who he has been pining over.

And then yan Bruce comes back so it's the daddy age gap yan verses the younger more arrogant yan.

Yummy.

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

okay, so i know your reqs are temp closed, but i'm desperate, ABSOLUTELY DESPERATE, and in love with your writing style... for some transmale reader x bill who adopt a kid... from how they decide to adopt to maybe the early moments of meeting their kid

PLEASE i know your reqs are closed and im SOSOSO sorry but your writing style is SO GOOD i have cried to your fics before

( YES YES YES!!

“So We’re Doing This, Huh”

(Epilogue bill dickey x trans male reader!

(Modern bill dickey

It starts the way most things do with Bill these days — with yelling. Not his yelling, though. Some poor bastard on the train is going at it with their toddler, tugging at their coat sleeve like it’s a chew toy. Bill watches from his spot by the window, arms crossed, one boot kicked up on the edge of the opposite seat like he owns the car. He doesn’t even like trains — they’re slow, loud, and crawling with “pop culture zombies and diaper gremlins.”

He mutters something about the decay of society and kids with “iPad brains,” and you roll your eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he grumbles, not looking at you, “back in my day, a tantrum in public got you a backhand and a grounding, not a f***ing TikTok and a juice box.”

“Back in your day,” you say, dryly, “dinosaurs walked the earth and the SNES was peak technology.”

That gets a snort. “You wish. Kids these days wouldn’t know good media if it pissed on their Funko Pops.”

But he keeps looking — not at the dad, not at the mess — but the kid. Dirty cheeks, snot-crusted nose. Crying, yeah, but it’s the kind of cry that isn’t just spoiled — it’s scared. Small. Alone.

You nudge him. “You keep staring like that, people are gonna think you’re the creep.”

Bill scoffs. “You think I give a sht* what people think?”

But he does. Especially you. The ones who squint at you funny in stores when they clock your voice, or when they don’t and later do. The ones who call you ‘lady’ or ‘miss’ and get real hostile when corrected. The way his jaw twitches when he hears it — he always notices. You stopped needing to ask him to step in months ago.

“Y’know,” you say casually, “if we adopted a kid, you could train them properly.”

You meant it as a joke.

Bill doesn’t laugh.

He looks away, eyes darting to the side.

“…Why the hell would you even want to do that?”

You shrug. “I think we’d be good at it. You’d teach them how to argue. I’d teach them how to calm down.”

He grunts. “Cute. So I’m the attack dog, and you’re the therapy plush.”

“You’re more of a porcupine. But I like porcupines.”

You expect more mockery. Some edgy rant about how the world isn’t fit for kids, how parenting’s a racket, how even fandom couldn’t survive modernity, let alone a child’s mind.

Instead, he’s quiet.

Really quiet.

“...It’d have to be a weird kid,” he finally mutters. “Like, a really f***ing weird one. A kid that likes practical effects and eats the green jellybeans and gets bullied for knowing who Lon Chaney is.”

You smile.

“Yeah,” you say. “Someone like that.”

---

The agency building smells like antiseptic and popcorn. The lights are too bright. The other prospective parents look like they stepped out of a J.Crew catalog. You and Bill… don’t.

He’s wearing a faded Creepshow tee under a wrinkled flannel jacket, and you’re in a Baggy graphic Tee , half-worried they’re gonna ask for proof you’re married or some invasive sh*t about your body. Passing or not.

You fill out the forms. The social worker gives Bill a once-over, like he’s about to spit on the carpet. He glares at them like they’re a reboot of Tales from the Crypt.

You meet the kid in a cramped playroom with stained carpet and a broken lava lamp.

They’re small. Big eyes. Hair that looks like it hasn’t been brushed in a while. They’re sitting in the corner, drawing something on a piece of paper. It looks like… a monster?

No, wait.

A kaiju. It has a lopsided smile and a rocket arm.

Bill leans down next to you, arms crossed.

“…Okay. Not bad taste.”

The kid looks up — wary.

Bill squats down, cracking his knees.

“You into Gamera or just freestyling?”

The kid shrugs. “They made fun of it at school. Said it was dumb.”

Bill’s nostrils flare. Good sign.

“They’re dumb,” he says, flatly. “You like practical effects?”

“What’s that?”

He smirks.

“I’ll show you later.”

You sit beside them, letting them pass you a crayon. No big speeches. No dramatic music.

Just a quiet moment. A slow unfolding.

When they ask what to call you, you say your name — and nothing more. No pressure. No labels.

When they ask what to call Bill, he says, deadpan, “Overlord.”

The kid laughs.

You’re gonna be okay.

“Bedtime is a Scam, Kid”

The kid’s stuff isn’t even unpacked yet. Their duffel’s still by the couch, and the bedframe Bill built is crooked. (“I don’t need f*ing IKEA instructions, I’ve been building model kits since I was twelve.”) He refused to buy any furniture branded with Minions, Disney, or Marvel. Their sheets are black with little glow-in-the-dark bats on them, which he picked out.

“They’re not babyish,” he’d argued. “They’re thematic.”

Now it’s 9:30. You’re in sweats, exhausted, brushing your teeth while Bill stands awkwardly in the hallway, arms folded, glaring into the dim bedroom like the concept of bedtime itself owes him money.

Inside, the kid is curled under the bat covers, wide-eyed and not even pretending to sleep.

“You want me to read something or what?” you ask gently.

The kid shrugs. “They always used to read me the same book before bed.”

You nod. “Do you have it?”

They shake their head. “…No. I left it.”

They look small again, like they’re shrinking under the covers. Your heart aches.

Then, from the doorway:

“Bedtime is a scam.”

Bill’s voice. Rough. Defiant.

You turn. “Jesus, Bill—”

“No, listen,” he says, stepping into the room like a man about to make a presentation at Comic-Con. “You ever read the original Grimm’s Fairy Tales? They weren’t ‘goodnight, moon,’ they were ‘hope you like dismemberment and Catholic guilt.’”

The kid sits up, confused but intrigued.

Bill points a finger. “They sanitized everything. Modern stories? They’re full of sh*t. You wanna hear a real bedtime story?”

“Bill,” you say, warningly.

But the kid nods. “…Yeah.”

Bill plops onto the floor cross-legged, cracking his knees like a glow stick. He’s not smiling — he never really smiles — but his tone’s got a twisted warmth to it. Like a guy showing you his prized VHS collection.

“Alright. So once upon a time, there was this kid named Hans who lived in a village of bootlickers. One day, he meets Death in the woods—yes, Death, like a bony bastard with a cloak. And Hans doesn’t scream or cry or try to TikTok it. He bargains. And that’s the first smart protagonist we get in Western canon.”

The kid’s eyes are locked on him. You’re frozen in the doorway.

“And what happens?” the kid whispers.

Bill shrugs. “They make a deal. Hans tricks Death. Steals his magic sack. Locks him in a tree for seven years. Chaos ensues. People can’t die, the world falls apart, and eventually, Hans gets scared, lets Death out, and dies. The end.”

“…That’s a terrible ending,” says the kid.

“Exactly,” says Bill, nodding in approval. “It’s honest. The moral is: you can’t cheat death, but you can make him work for it. Kinda metal, right?”

The kid giggles. Actually giggles. Then lies back down, eyes wide with something halfway between awe and sleepiness.

You just stare at Bill. He meets your gaze like what?

“...You told our kid a literal death allegory as a lullaby,” you whisper.

“I edited out the part where the townspeople riot and eat each other. You’re welcome.”

You sigh. But the kid’s already asleep.

You brush a hand over their hair, quietly pulling the blanket up, and when you walk back into the hallway, Bill follows.

“Don’t make it a thing,” he says under his breath.

“What?”

“You’re doing the face. The look. The ‘aww, Bill has a heart’ look.”

You smirk. “You literally just improvised Grimm's Tales fanfic to help our kid sleep.”

He grunts. “Yeah, well. Somebody’s gotta undo the brainrot from this capitalist nursery trash.”

You reach over, lace your fingers through his as you walk down the hall. His hand twitches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“You’re doing good, Bill.”

“Tell that to the f***ing bedframe. It’s listing like the Titanic.”

“Still. I think you’re gonna be a great dad.”

He groans. “You’re trying to make me cry. Stop it.”

“I Don’t Say It. I Do It.”

It’s late. The apartment is finally quiet.

You’re in the bathroom, staring at your reflection. Not in a self-obsessed way — more like... monitoring. Jawline. Shoulders. That shirt you swore fit better last month is clinging wrong, and your binder’s pinching like hell after twelve hours. You look tired. You feel tired.

You splash your face and lean on the sink.

From behind the door: a knock. Not gentle.

“Hey.” Bill’s voice. “You dead in there?”

You open the door a crack.

“I’m fine,” you mutter. “Just needed a minute.”

He sees right through it. Of course he does.

Bill steps in. Doesn’t ask permission — doesn’t have to, not with you. Just wedges in the doorway beside you, arms crossed, sizing you up with that squint like he’s trying to decide if you’re being dramatic or not. Then he sees your binder’s edge peeking out from under your sleep shirt, and something about his stare sharpens.

“You wore that thing all day?”

You glance away. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is if you’re two steps from passing out like a fainting goat.”

You snort. He cracks half a grin. Then, gently — for him — he reaches forward, tugging at the fabric near your ribs.

“Take it off,” he says. “Before I cut it off you.”

You roll your eyes, but you do. And he’s there the whole time, acting like he’s busy fiddling with the faucet or counting toothpaste caps, but you catch how his eyes flick to your chest, then away — fast, like it’s not even a thing worth noting. Like it doesn’t change a thing.

When it’s off, he doesn’t look at your body. He looks at you — your face, your expression. Like he’s checking if the storm behind your eyes has passed.

Then he shrugs. “Better.”

You nod. “Yeah.”

You lean back against the counter, arms folded, exhausted. Bill huffs through his nose, watching you a beat longer.

“…You’re doing good,” he mutters, barely above audible.

“What?”

He growls like he hates repeating himself. “I said you’re doing good. With the kid. With all of this.”

You blink. That’s… rare. Coming from him.

“You are too,” you say.

He scoffs. “No, I’m surviving. You’re the one who talks to him like a person. I just tell bedtime horror stories and threaten the cafeteria with bodily harm if they don’t stop giving him f***ing ham every day.”

You laugh under your breath. “He likes the stories.”

Bill shrugs. “Yeah. Well. I like him.” Then a pause. “I like you.”

It slips out like a mistake. But he doesn’t take it back. Doesn’t even look away.

You raise your eyebrows. “You getting sentimental on me, Dickey?”

“Shut up,” he says.

But then — a small shift.

His hand, rough and dry from years of handling comics and takeout boxes, slides up behind your neck. Not forceful. Just steady. He looks at you like he’s about to argue again — but doesn’t.

Instead, he leans in.

It’s not a swooping, cinematic kiss. It’s quick. Grounded. Real. Tastes faintly like coffee and whatever chips he stress-ate after the kid went to sleep.

But it’s honest.

He pulls back. Not far. Just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“You’re not just some guy I ended up with,” he says. “You’re you. And I picked you. Remember that.”

You swallow. Your throat’s tight, but not in a bad way.

“I remember.”

He snorts. “Good. ’Cause I’m not sayin’ it again.”

Then he pats your hip — more of a weird half-assed affectionate smack — and mutters, “C’mon. If I’m cuddling, I’m doing it horizontal.”

[inrever1]

hashimada :333

Remember when I said I’d start posting soon but then disappeared for like several months (again lol)? WELL as I said a while ago I quit my job because the workplace was crumbling, and it got increasingly toxic to a point where I just couldn’t work anymore. I took a risk and decided to go back to school. I feel like I’ve been put through the ringer tho lately as I’ve hit a huge string of bad circumstances that have kept me from drawing as often as I want to 🥲 such as this morning where my Wacom tablet finally ate sht, so I can’t do digital drawing until I get it repaired. I’ll still try to share sketches and other things and get back into the groove of posting again hehe. Unfortunately I don’t have a lot to share rn and a lot of these are just sketches, some from 2020-2022 that I never posted.

[constinconstancy]

while everyone else makes quality Spam, i make some strange sht...

so, recently i found some old toy car, mb from kinder idk, and for some reason it reminded me of cungadero even though headcanon cungadero is red

so i decided to draw a small Big Shot Era Spamton in it.....

in the process i got an idea of making it into a sticker....

and then i recolored the car....and made it into a full art instead

[aalien-s]

I cant stop thinking about trolls, specifically Floyd. Finally decided to just go wild and draw fanart. Im going insane over this little guy

HE IS THE SIZE OF MY FINGER

Pretty short theory/rant under cut

I also really love the idea that he’s been hanging out with the rock trolls since the brothers separated. It could even kinda make sense. His looks kinda remind me of something you could see a rock troll looking like, just mess up his hair a bit. Ofc he has wayy too bright colors to be a rock troll, but he was born as a pop troll. (I can just imagine how much he would stand out oml.) Not to mention, Prince D said in the second movie that trolls can enjoy more than just one type of music. He was also apparently kidnapped 2 months prior to the movie, and the second movie was just a week before the third, meaning Floyd had been missing for 1 month and 3 weeks by the time of the second movie. Someone would probably try to look for him, but after a while of no signs they could’ve just assumed him dead and given up. By the time of the movie the rock trolls wouldn’t even think to ask anyone of the other tribes about him, because he’d been missing for a while and because the whole rock-apocalypse was going on. Only reason i can see it not working is if the rock trolls were against any type of music the entire time and either would’ve just kicked him out or forced him to only play rock (which i don’t believe Floyd would be able to do). Really going into theory mode here: Floyd showing up could be what made Queen Barb find out about the other tribes and first get the idea of the world tour, but only starting to plan it after Floyd disappears and they fail to find him.

I would also love if this was true and every time Floyd plays rock music he gets aggressive and scares the sht out of his brothers lol.

I literally came up with the oc as i drew this, i just wanted some random guy for the pose and suddenly i had a character. He’s just someone that basically clung himself to Floyd immediately when he got to the village. Bro’s kind of a bully but he’s also a loser. (Just wanna say I’m not the type of person that ships ocs with canon, and i’m not doing it here) They end up having a sort of rivalry, as Floyd gets better at Rock and manages to mix it with his pop, he gets a bit popular. Meanwhile Brick has never really tried to gain an audience, but when Floyd gets followers and Brick was already challenging him, he ultimately gets some attention too. They sort of team up and become a duo, but they ensure that they’re still rivals. Inevitable though, they become friends, hang out a lot, sing and dance, like normal trolls. Brick teaches Floyd some specific things about rock and Floyd tells him about his tribe and brothers. Brick would be the devastated when Floyd got kidnapped and would be the last to stop searching. (Never stopped hoping he was alive though). Of course though, he is a rock troll and theres no way he would show how much he cares about Floyd.

Im currently working on colored designs of Brick and Rock!Floyd

[ombrathefurry]

Ok, shall I just continue writing little stories cuz I have no fcking sht to do with these two remaining braincells o' mine?

If SF is actually good at making some 'noise'… "Good job, buddy." I smiled while turning around to face him. "You're actually pretty good!" It then hit me I listened along while I promised I wouldn't when he looked at me with big eyes. "Erm…" — "My fault…" I chuckled awkwardly.

The awkwardness fell into silence. "No, but, seriously… You're quite the singer…" — "Or should I say hummer, aye? Get it?" I jest, laughing at my own joke. (🫐: Srsly, so mecoded fr, but I'm already writing out of the I/me-perspective… (this is why I need 2 braincells).)

I sighed, "I don't find that your throat is tarnished…" — "Or at least, the sound of it." — "Can I… Hear more…?"

If SF is completely tonedeaf and has no sense of music… "You're doing it just right, buddy." I smiled while turning around to face him. "Did that help a little?" — "I hope so…" He doesn't seem quite calm… "Can I touch you?" I ask, "Like, give you a hug or pat your shoulder…" I added quickly. "I need your consent first…"

When he doesn't reply, I just scoot to sit next to him, and look away. "I'm really not one to talk about life, cuz I'm also not the greatest at it… IykwIm…" "But there's one thing I've learned…" — "You're not alone." I look back at him. "Even if it seems that way." — "There'll always be 8 billion people where at least 1/10⁹ will be your true friends who will help you get through with whatever you're dealing with…" "So hold on a little while longer, lil' buddy, you're strong!"

I need inspiration to draw and write, but I'm going through my pre-pre-midlife crisis (Yes, I said pre twice.) So I can't. And so I'm using your characters to write lil stories for you. (Please, do tell if they're inaccurate and if you're done with my writing, cuz I'd gladly stop if they're starting to bother you!) I can also write more sinister crap for the people who're interested… Yours truly,

~🫐 Anon

(While Smallfeather is not tone deaf, the state of his throat makes it difficult for him to sing on-key)

[cryonisssnow]

Hello! I'm Cryoniss!

/Cryo, or Cry, or Cryon, or Snow.. really any of those names!

• Pronouns: He/They!!

I've been into video games since I was.. quite literally a wee child, thanks to Halo 2 on the og Xbox (Thank you, dad. Even if you don't have Tumblr) And ever since then, I've been a menace to society who won't hesitate to run into a fight as a distraction-

I also love art even if I don't draw/post often 💀

• 16, I can't believe I have to specify this.

Interests!!

- Legend of Zelda (my all-time hyperfixation)

- Splatoon

- Roblox (Kinda Phighting, Evade, Pressure, Regretevator, ABYSSALLL MY BELOVEAD, and that's it)

- Animal Crossing

- DC & Marvel comics

- X-Men

- Steven Universe

- Cookie Run kingdom

- My Singing Monsters/MSM

Be warned! Sometimes, my interests fluctuate from month to month or year to year! Or might be lesser one part of the year and stronger the next.

I do have specialized tags for my art posts under: Cryo.art While my Text posts are under Cryo.txt! I'm also a certified yapper.. so expect some walls of text every now and then 😅

Boundaries 🪶

General

• I'm not always active, and please respect that. I am not always active on Tumblr, I can go weeks without checking the app, so please don't try to spam me or anything like that!

• My asks are open 24/7! Just be respectful

• Don't be negative, I'm using my page as a little escape from stress and to just post art. Don't be rude on here.

• I do swear, just not commonly or a lot on social media. So please don't try to tell me not to on my own page, tyy

• If I post a vent post, just let it be, please, and thank you.

Art

• If I make art that could suggest a ship and there is commotion about what ships 'need' to be liked, I will be blocking people and taking down my own art if that occurs.

• Please understand I am new to both posting and drawing more than once a month. So, of course, something might look off, don't point it out, and give me unnecessary advice, I already know and am already planning how to redraw it better. I'm learning and improving week by week, give me time. If I ask for advice, then be nice about it, I'm still learning so please respect that

• Please do not ask to buy art, I'm not selling any at the current moment and am not planning on it currently. || I.E. No commissions, pfps, nada ||

• I'm mainly a traditional artist at the moment while I slowly get better at digital art again, so it will be a while before Digital art is posted at a rate like my trad art.

! ! ! DNI ! ! !

• If you're going to be ignorant about the Lgbtqia+ go. You are not free to talk any of that negative sht here. No transphobia, no homophobia, none of that.

• No jokes about ab^se, please. Absolutely none, I won't tolerate it; that is disrespectful to the victims, myself included, and you will be blocked.

• If you proship or ship Batce$st GTFO. THAT IS NASTY. I do not care for your excuses, AU or not, scadadle. None of that here.

• No creepy comments or dms. I'm a minor, that is GROSS. My block button is locked and loaded. Don't try it.

• Don't interact if you're an NSFT account, or any account that is 18+ I'm a minor, and your interacting with one. Go away.

That's all! Hope you can respect these, and hopefully, this wasn't a terrible redone introduction!

[firstservepercentage]

Hiiiii I'm Cissi (new to tumblr)

Languages 🇬🇧🇨🇳🇯🇵

I some times draw

in a super long term love-hate relationship with Tennis, but quite new to F1 (started watching summer 2022)

I also watch football. But my team is doing sht recently so I am keeping some distance from them for a while for my sanity

F1 = OP81 & LN4 (I draw them), CL16/ LH44/ AA23/ PG10 (I hope they do well), MV1 (I guess its unnecessary for me to hope he does well)

Tennis = Jannik Sinner (I draw him a lot), Carlitos Alcaraz (I very rarely draw him), Elena Rybakina (I try to draw her more but she is so difficult to draw), Iga Swiatek (I usually dont draw her but she saves my mental health). But I support everyone generally

[kellystar321]

.