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pun

Hermit Hermit
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ARCHIE FELTCH - British Heroes

(2B pencil on 180mm x 136mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"

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Jufi Jufi
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The Alchemy of Division

Final assemblage - manual drawing enriched with digital elements, A5 format The punch line: An external, independent force ruined the morning by shattering the cup. Fate took its share. The question is: Does this same external interference have the power to destroy the rest of the day? Does one rotten fruit have the chance to rob all the others of their flavor? The sun will shine no matter the situation. Choice and acceptance don't have to be mutually exclusive!

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Hermit Hermit
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BRYAN BUMMINGTON - British Heroes

(2B pencil on 140mm x 130mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"

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BeastGurl1989 BeastGurl1989
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This is her longing face

Some girls look cute, sexy or that look of longing when they want you. But Chump...this is her longing face. But its not what you think underneath. She just wants your fruit punch dude. Or just use your soul to summon the dark one.

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Ty patmore Ty patmore
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From time to time.

A whimsical yet haunting reflection on the passage of time, From Time to Time imagines a fragile machine built to bend reality itself. The “Tempus Machina” stands as both invention and relic — humming with promise but tethered by a frayed cord and a warning: Watch Your Step. The cracked wall, warped floorboards, and distorted clock hint that tampering with time comes at a cost. Blending humor, nostalgia, and existential tension, Patmore’s work transforms a steampunk curiosity into a metaphor for our human impulse to repair, rewind, and relive what’s already slipping away.

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BeastGurl1989 BeastGurl1989
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If its not fruit punch...

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Guilhem Guilhem
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Cyberpunk

Some robots, and some punk drawings. Reference of the robot: "Neon sentiel, the watcher" (Digital Archive), Reference of the punk: "Kings road, London, 1977" (Steve Johnson)

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Riley Kane Riley Kane
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An annoyed, pirate-y goblin!

Hey! I'm back! Working hard on my outfits, got inspired by some steampunk pirates and decided to try my hand.

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WaterproofFade-Proof WaterproofFade-Proof
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Jelly Pirate -Tallis Irvine

A character concept drawing of a pirate vampire character I created for a collab writing project that died. His clothing and even his hair borrowed aspects from various jelly fish as inspiration. " The snap of inky sails catching the wind punctuated the subtle wooden creaks of the Sea Nettle as it slid over glossy black waves. The night was oppressive. With the moon obscured by clouds, the ship, with its doused lamps and its dark wood was nearly invisible as she crept closer to her prize. Tallis stood on the forecastle, one foot propped against the railing, his hands supporting a spyglass. He drifted the lens between the lights below deck, counting each of them and making note of any movement on the upper deck and in the rigging. A single sailor was at the helm. Another was lazily standing beside him, possibly engaged in conversation that distracted him from his watch. This was to be expected, not many would dare to disturb such a well-equipped vessel of the Luthen royal fleet. Nettie's crew was lesser in numbers, but they were experts in what few on the high seas could manage. Tonight, would be a quiet strike. Open combat spelled unnecessary danger for his crew."

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Enitsirhc Enitsirhc
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Telling the Thyme

Pun play

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Chiara Orlandini Chiara Orlandini
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Self-portrait - Touch - mixmedia on sketchbook

Suddenly the light goes out and staying in the dark is a test of resistance, but when everything seems lost, it turns on again, so simply: sometimes a single attempt isn't enough, there are many moments to spend without light, but you don't have to be afraid of it, because sooner or later we will succeed in the undertaking and it will make you smile as the thing that seemed so difficult came spontaneously, it was enough not to force the process. I hate the darkness because it shows me a version of myself that I would never want to meet, yet if I accept that the punches of life in some periods are stronger than others, sometimes leaving bruises and burns, but that life itself has granted me caresses like this sweets that I would not have appreciated without going through pain, then everything around me will seem golden. I can only appreciate the hatred and wonder of it. I can feel those caresses, I can savor them with the same intensity with which I feel the pain of the punches, because ultimately they give so much: the strength to take another step, to not give up right now, right now that I am so close to feeling them in my heart those precious caresses.

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WaterproofFade-Proof WaterproofFade-Proof
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Auren Portrait

Luminary Festival - Auren Farkis (Digital Portrait I did as a colour study) Crisp reverberating strings danced through the evening. Notes twisted and echoed up through the emerald, velvet tiers of Ridgedow Gardens. Dusk’s veil had long since darkened to a diamond-encrusted black, and Clarglow was alive with activity. Footpaths were choked with revellers that formed a river of light that coursed and pulsed through the park. Will-o-whisp spots of light also glowed among the neatly trimmed hedgerows and statues. Their magic-addled voices rose up, joining in with the music of the Luminary Festival. A young man, no more than a quarter of a century old, glowed brightest of all. A soft orange radiated from his eyes, and his veins pulsed a brilliant red. He was dripping in gold and gems. Over an outfit that somehow managed to be heavily layered and revealing at the same time, he wore a sheer cape, which was heavily embroidered with blood-red crystals that refracted his own light around him in dazzling, concentrated rays. It was such a dangerous colour of magic, but his expression was soft and dreamy. Excited laughter rose up as a clustered group shot metallic confetti skyward. Gold flake drifted down and settled into his silver hair, cheeks, and shoulders. No doubt he would discover the remnants of this festival in his home weeks from now. He increased his pace, stepping off the cobbled path to overtake the group, when one of their number split from the group. The coils of her dark hair were so saturated with gold that she looked like she belonged on a pedestal next to the other statues. She intercepted him, matching his pace. She snaked a long, slender arm around his waist and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his neck, leaving a wake of golden kisses up to his earlobe, where she leaned closer to whisper. — “Aurie, Luv, I know that look. Don’t tell me you’re headed home. The eve has only just begun. “ Her glowing eyes Locked with Auren’s, her grip tightening, slowing the both of them to a stop, causing a temporary blockage in the flow of people. “Overdid myself Mel.. you’ll have to –” –” Come with us to the reflecting pool.” She cooed, meeting his lips in an off-center kiss, smearing his inky wine lipstick. Momentarily, he allowed himself to relax. He considered saying yes. His heart pounding, he dipped his friend backwards gracefully, resenting that he had to leave. An itch in his left arm reminded his fuzzy brain that he was in danger. Gasping softly, he gently lifted Mella upright and spun her out towards her friends, who were growing impatient. He couldn’t make out their faces in the fuzz of the evening. “I can’t, I’m sorry Mel! We’ll talk later.” Before she could protest, he danced, spinning forward in a brilliant display of speed that ended in a stumble as he met a set of steep steps that coiled sharply upwards out of the park and onto the pink brick streets overlooking Ridgedow Gardens. The glazed windows facing the street were empty and blank… their occupants elsewhere, enjoying the festival. The empty buildings were like faces, judging him for his lack of zeal. Auren wound his way through streets and side streets, his pace increasing as he grew more and more alone. Finally, he was climbing a set of steps to his own front door. Smirking at the sight of it he reached down into the front of the bodice that held together the layers of his outfit pulling free a loop of keys that were on a long chain looped around his neck. Aligning it to the keyhole he struggled with the lock, cursing softly under his breath as it initially failed to cooperate with him. In the quiet black of his foyer, he latched the door behind him and stumbled forward, tearing at the ribbon that held the gleaming cape that draped from his bare shoulders. He let it drop on a black lacquered table. He reached up to unclasp an elaborate choker and tore his single, crimson glove down from his elbow. He pressed a gilded fingernail against a band of red ink encroached upon by a spreading corruption. Marginally extending beyond the band were sinews of mismatched muscle and skin; even his hair had begun to glow red. Pulse rising, he wrenched his rings from his fingers, casting them into the ever-darkening room. Precious jewellery piled under him until only the dimmest glow from his own veins remained.. Slumping onto the steps, he tightened his grip on his arm and twisted it ninety degrees. A sharp click of crystal against porcelain met his ears. The room was enveloped in black as his final stone slid away from his arm, rendering the prosthesis inert. He slid to his side, the sounds of the party below overtaken by his own gasping breaths, panic refusing to subside alongside his magic.

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Adam Curry Adam Curry
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Reality is overrated, avoid the truth.

This sketch is supposed to symbolise the struggle we all have to accept our responsibilities at the cost of our own well-being. It's easy to ignore our problems when there are so many forms of escapism.

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ChadKiley ChadKiley
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Flutist...

Puncil.

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Dita Anggraeni Dita Anggraeni
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Promotion for Jesse Lent show

I created a series of mini-flyer to promote Jesse Lent's show. The show venue becomes the inspiration and the series was produced with hand-drawing line-marker style with one punchy bold color.

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Daniel Gräfen Daniel Gräfen
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Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let downwards thy hair!

Architecture of the Day

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Ginger Ginger
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Spyce the Jack o Dog

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Meet Spyce, he's a spooky,punkish and sweet dog with a pumpkin head. X3

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Den Den
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WTF are you staring at?

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Smiley Ball Smiley Ball
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I Got to Meet Don Flamenco

I was hanging out with my boyfriend Cagney (the Flower) and then I encountered the famous Boxer Don Flamenco, I had to to say hi! He stuck around and started flirting with me in Spanish. I was really flattered and couldn’t stop blushing

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Kazrarr Kazrarr
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Cyberpunk launchpad

Digital painting X Photobashing

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Jan Balko Jan Balko
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Truth prevails

Czech national motto in this folk-punk picture of mine. (Pencil. Water colours. 2013)

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Lukman Hakim Huda Lukman Hakim Huda
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colorfull steampunk

Steampunk theme with colorfull colour pallete :) hope you enjoy

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Jeanette Jeanette
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42 of 365

It “matches” yesterdays post (pun intended)

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Stephen Stephen
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Salvation in a Storm

This painting illustrates a man who finds safety from drowning in a stormy sea by climbing on to a platform in shape of a cross. The storm itself represents the trial we face in life. The shipwrecked person shows that we have nothing we can approach God with that would sway Him to help us when we call on Him for help. Only out of grace and mercy does He rescue us. The platform in the shape of the cross represents that God has provided a way for man to escape punishment for his sins, which would have been casting him into the lake of fire after death. Through God’s love and mercy, He punished Jesus for man’s sin; the guiltless Son of God was punished so that the guilty sinful humans could be saved through faith. The step represents man’s need to come to God humbly through Jesus to receive anything from God. The light breaking through the clouds represents God hearing the man’s prayer and answering it. (October 28, 2017)

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Lukas Lukas
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Airship Corvette

Fineliner on paper.

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Brendon Brendon
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Ghost_Recursive Online
1/3

Ghost_Recursive, or just Ghost, is a character in my new story Metropolis Subatlantica. He's 94, has cybernetic implants, and can control many robots simultaneously with his powerful mind. He is a loner in life, but very influential online. Some view him as a prophet. He is usually found levitating in his quarters while jacked into the line.

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Dorothy Jane Dorothy Jane
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Punk

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Shannon Shannon
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Steampunk-ish

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Garima Madavi Garima Madavi
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Travel Puns

All the elements related to travel with few puns.

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Josh Gee Josh Gee
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Mos Eisley Spaceport kinda sorta

Happy 101st Upload! Made this because, I love Star Wars, and I found a great radio drama of New Hope, which Mark Hamill himself even participated in! Check it out! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-29uKdckL4&list=WL&index=63

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