Nightmare

Hey guys, does anybody here have any mikey-hair related headcannons that they would like to share and/or see illustrated?

I might insert it in the next comic panels hehehe

You can put it in the ask box, in the comments or even in a reblog lmao idk

my monthly post WOOOOO okay but actually i luv this piece it looks so pretty im sohappy

I found this doodle page that i made over the SUMMER (yeah it’s from a while back) and honestly? Its not as bad as i remembered it to be lmao (also, this was when mutant mayhem came out)

part 1 of my Theseus' Guide chapter 8 animatic because i just dont know when i'll have the chance to do part 2!

@lulous-p @insekiwii @weenieizkewl @kaysdenofchaos @burgersaucee @rufwooff

Amogus

i also wana start a picrew chain so just tag as manny ppl as you can and make a little guy of yourself

little guy maker｜Picrew

mine

@sad-trash-pigeon @hyperbolic-havoc @literally-maria @willprobablychangethis @willows-woes @heartstopperstuff @sproldenlover @pessimistonsteriods @person4924 @katelyn-heartstopper @artsimmys @acuteobsession @apersononearth011 @faulty-radio

Rip, thank you for the memories

rip rachael lillis <3

this is currently the best image that describes my mood

I FREAKING KNEW IT, RIGHT WHEN YOU SAID THAT YOU PICKED UP THE CASSETTE I KNEW IT WAS A RICK ROLL RAHHHHH

A group of far-future linguists and archeologists suddenly *poof* into existence in front of me. One is holding a tablet. "What is the difference between 'red sauce' and 'tomato sauce?'" they ask me. "The distinction is not clear in extant texts from this time and place."

"Uh, they're the same thing," I tell them. "Who are you?"

"Yes!" the being with the tablet exclaims.

One of the other researchers groans. "No! My thesis...months of writing wasted..." One of the others comforts them.

"Now, what is this object for?" The first researcher holds up a discolored, dinged-up plastic object. It's clearly been buried in the ground for quite some time, but the two holes and the scuffed plastic window are distinctive.

"That's a cassette tape. You record music with it."

"Interesting, interesting." The being enters something on the tablet.

"How are you speaking English?"

"Sophisticated translation technology," one of the researchers confides. "We are students of your society. From the future."

"What does this pictogram represent?" The researcher with the tablet turns it around so that the screen faces me.

It's the eggplant emoji.

"Sex," I say. "Why do you need to ask me this if you can time travel or whatever? Can't you just go wherever you want to go and look around and see how these things are being used?"

The beings shift guiltily and look at each other. "Technically, travel to times and places prior the advent of time travel is strictly prohibited. Paradoxes, you know."

"Oh."

"We must get back before our advisor returns to the lab. Just don't tell anyone you saw us, alright? The space-time continuity depends on it. Can you do that?"

"Uh, sure, I guess?"

One of them pats me on the head. "And don't go to Mars."

"Okay. Wait, why? Is it dangerous?"

"No. Just not worth it."

The group disappears in a shimmering light.

The cassette clatters to the sidewalk behind them.

Out of befuddlement, mainly, I pick it up. It's clearly old, discolored and scuffed, but it still has tape in it.

I carry the tape around in my pocket for a while. The curiosity builds. I want to know what's on that tape. I don't have a cassette player anymore, so I go to Goodwill and pick up the first one I can find, praying that it still works. I plug it in. It turns on.

I slide the tape inside. It's dirty, but it still seems to be in decent shape. I snap the player closed and hit play. The wheels begin to turn. I hold my breath.

A familiar tune starts up. A wobbly voice comes out of the machine.

We're no strangers to love