#Inkwell Family

[dipstar1489]

The Inkwell Siblings

Both Siblings:

They were the main protagonist of the Inkwell Show which ran from 1915 to 1941.

They can see ghost because they have no soul, so technically they are not alive.

They follow cartoon logic both in the cartoon and in real life. For example, rubber arms, that one Scooby-Doo door gag, etc.

They are able to add color to themselves by absorbing liquids thicker than ink. While they are capable of this, if they change clothes, the new outfit would become grayscale unless heavily stained in thick liquid such as bl00d.

They get weak around modern technology and get injured by ink thinner.

Because there are no more episodes, the show is stuck on reruns and the people stuck inside are subconsciously aware something is wrong.

Since the siblings left, whenever they were meant to be on scene, the show creates clones of the siblings that people can’t pinpoint what’s wrong.

None of the creators knew they were conscious.

Penny Inkwell

Species: Cartoon

Age: 16 (in cartoon creation), 103 (from creation year to 2018)

BDay: 10/31, made in 1915

Fun Facts:

Inkwell hates her first name and prefers to go by her last name.

She is obsessed with the color red because it was the first color she ever saw.

She left the cartoon on the 26th anniversary of the show Samara Ring style.

She was created by James Carter to honor his deceased youngest daughter Mary.

She was forced to be the comic relief and realized she was being watched after she kept hearing laughter whenever she got injured.

Once she escaped, Inkwell is hunting down the cast of her show out of revenge for her and her brother’s torture.

Rune Inkwell

Species: Cartoon

Age: 14 (in cartoon creation), 101 (from creation year to 2018)

BDay: 02/17, made in 1915

Fun Facts:

Rune left the screen in 1975, 34 years after his sister left and the world stuck in a constant loop.

His breakthrough realization that something was seriously wrong wasn’t the mysterious laughter nor the unease of his false sister. It was his birthday. He has turned 14, 5 times.

Once he left, Rune wandered through the abandoned, bl00died building and realizes no one knew they were alive and that his sister left decades ago and she was in some way involved with the bl00d on the wall.

[ask-cupbros-parents]

♢The Legendary and The Revolutionary ♡

""A long long long time ago... ancient times, the Legendary Chalice found a war orphan and raised her to become her apprentice, the guardian of Calix Animi...her name is....""

Calix Animi family–>> ♣️ Previous ♥️ -----♠️Next♦️

( The posts of this family series are not in story order )

Bonus:

*Please do not repost, copy, or trace my artwork! Cupbros blog |Main blog| Twitter | Patreon

Card background reference

Poses Reference :

[pja-party]

Will the character of Utena's father appear in the future plot? Or is it that there was no design for this person at all?

Utena's dad was gone when she and Faith were babies.

I don't have any plans for him to be part of the upcoming plot.( Unless I suddenly decide to give flashback of them)

But, I do have some concepts for him. It took me a very long time to figure out his design.

Ocha, the Teacup Sisters' father, and Athena's lover,

He was a foreigner from the East with a red color theme. He quit his old job to open a flower shop with Athena. After their daughters were born, they were supposed to live this peaceful life forever, but unfortunately, Ocha suffered from an illness and passed away.

////

///

A Wandering Swordsman & A Guarding Knight ( Concept of their first encounter)

Anyway, for now, I don't plan to put him in the main plot.

[firecurls-27]

This is like a day late but I heard this audio and idfk happy birthday, Walter!

@ask-cupbros-parents/@pja-party

[marshmallow-biscuit-blog]

Joe lifting sir teacup tee hee 🤭

Shrek and Fiona /j

[gnomiwizard]

Important Announcement!

Thats right, in honor of this being my hundredth post Ill be taking art requests until Sunday this week!

Please read this before you request something!

I look forward to drawing your requests!

[foxfireink]

STS fun: Generators for making coats of arms (plus a couple other generator mentions). Anyone have any to add? What are your favorite generators for worldbuilding?

Tagging @hd-literature, @tate-lin, @blind-the-winds in case you guys wanna throw any links out there. That's how this works, right? (Hi it's Inkwell and I'm new here, hahaha.)

Got a few images and links below.

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

-Inkwell and Crooked Writer

This is the coat of arms for the Stewards of the Swords, the anti-eldritch bodyguards of the king and his family in our WIP audio drama, Songs of Decay. It's cool cuz the Steward represented there in the middle keeps the Swords (the king's family members) from being corrupted by eldritch influences and turning on the Crown. Read more about the Stewards here.

We used Armoria to generate and customize the coat of arms above.

Armoria actually connects to Azgaar's fantasy map generator! If you generate a map and click on a city, it will show you that city's emblem.

Similarly, you can also click on a city to edit its layout in City Generator by Watabou, a medieval fantasy city generator. All three of these resources are pretty dang awesome, and I love that they all work together!

This is the crest of the Haldane royal family of Imeuiad from our fantasy WIP, Outcasts.

We also use Draw Shield. Draw Shield even has resources on their website to learn about heraldry and related vocabulary. I loooove that it types up the term for each feature you add to the shield, so you can learn blazonry ("the art of describing or painting heraldic devices or armorial bearings") as you go!

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

-Inkwell and Crooked Writer

[tomasitaoficial]

The first Zamir drawing I did

He looks so stupid

[creonininkwell]

So the Devil is in trouble cuz his disguise was not so original after all. The Mayweather Clan ACTUALLY exist. Concept sketches of the family. Thanks everyone who came to the streams

During early expeditions, they run into certain members of the ACTUAL Mayweather clan randomly. With each encounter, the Devil’s human persona is being questioned. Lucy/Devil claims that he can’t remember, and that he might have suffered amnesia from a recent period of time before he met Creon. Creon is a little concerned that something bad happened to Lucy to have caused this temporary amnesia.

With each encounter with the Mayweathers, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture to what could have happened to Lucy prior to meeting Creon. Devil is REALLY concerned that the human persona HE created, is not so original after all, and he may have committed identity theft/fraud. Fortunately and unfortunately for him, Stickler actually kept separate accounts pertaining to special cases.

Lucius Charles Mayweather died prematurely at the ripe age of 21, and somehow got sentenced to eternal imprisonment in Hell. The Devil can’t quite recall why he imprisoned this guy in Hell, and Stickler apparently classified the reason as “by executive order.” Meaning the Devil just ordered this for no apparent reason. These encounters will lead to Lucy/Devil investigating the Mayweathers to get much needed answers and to cover up holes in his fake backstory.

The Mayweathers are just a very unpleasant family who have gotten worse with each generation due to a curse from continual worship of a sentient, eldritch weed that lives in the Mayweather Orchards. They believe themselves to be better than everyone, yet they’re blind to their own self-destruction and descent into insanity.

[don-lichterman]

What If The Cuphead Show Was More Like the Game? 💀 Netflix After School

What If The Cuphead Show Was More Like the Game? 💀 Netflix After School

Cuphead and Mugman have it so much easier in the show than in the game…they never have to restart an episode, even when battling a boss! But what if there were death screens and game overs in The Cuphead Show? How long could our favorite cup brothers survive? Could they even make it through a single episode? Probably not, but time to find out! The Cuphead Show, now streaming on…

[ask-cupbros-parents]

The lemon 🍋 thing

Calix Animi family–>> ♣️ Previous ♥️ -----♠️Next♦️

( The posts of this family series are not in story order )

🚫Please do not repost or trace my artwork! 🚫AI learning prohibit🚫 Cupbros blog |Main blog| Twitter | Patreon

[pja-party]

“The family “

Drew by whiteboard (magma)

[the-halfling-prince]

New favorite friendship dynamic: two adventurer women and their weirdo nerd best friend. They're telling him about their most recent quest. (Aka some not so new ocs but it's the only time I've drawn them)

[ebodebo]

i have a benedict bridgerton idea for you queenie! okay so reader works for the bridgerton family and she and has a huge huge huge crush on benedict. so one night she goes to his room (for whatever reason you pick) and she hears him jerking off and she's like !!! and then he moans her name and she's even more like !!!

you can fill in the rest wink wink

Illicit Affairs

NSFW CONTENT

—benedict bridgerton x reader

—2.2k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

Graphite pencils, quill pens, and an inkwell lay spread across the mahogany wooden table in the corner of the drawing-room, close to the bay window that overlooked the gardens. 

Several pieces of rag paper were spread across the table, and some even crumbled onto the floor, tainted by lead and ink. Judging from the messy lilacs and composition of a forest on the papers, you guessed Benedict had tried his hand at scenery drawings. 

The head maid had asked you to clean up his things, and you were, but surely there was no shame in seeing what kept the man occupied seemingly all day and all night.

You brushed your hand over the sketches, taking note of each delicately drawn petal and leaf, up to the bark on trees that looked so existent you swore you could feel the harshness of the wood along your fingertips.

As you scanned the sketches, gently picking them up, your eyes dilated as you noted a familiar face before you. Surely, it couldn't be, but it was hard to succumb to that idea when it was the same face you stared at in the mirror every day, your own.

He had drawn your eyes, lips, jaw, and even minor details, which you didn't even know anyone noticed, in his precious ink. You grasped the paper by the corner, holding it in eye view, unable to comprehend what you were seeing.

"Have you yet finished, my dear?" Your mother's voice echoed off the walls as she entered the room. You jumped back slightly at her voice, turning quickly to face her, clenching the paper behind your back.

"I…um…have to deliver a particular…thing to Mr. Bridgerton," you gab as you attempt to move past her, tucking the drawing into your apron pocket, though she's quick to grab your arm.

"Dearest, tis' late. It would be best if you did not wake him," she furrows her brows before glancing at the mess still scattered on the table and giving you a disapproving look. "You have not yet done cleaning, I see."

"I must make haste, mama. I do not wish to keep him waiting any further," you urge, putting your hand over hers to pull it off. She gives you another disapproving glance. You sigh, becoming slightly orated by her disagreeable state.

"Do you really wish for me to keep a Bridgerton waiting, mama," you raise a brow, a knowing look plastered on your face.

"I suppose—" She begins before you kiss her cheek and exit the room, heading towards the grand staircase to ascend the stairs, feeling the paper burn a hole through the cloth of your apron.

Your heart pounded as you reached the end of the stairs, clammy hand slipping off the end of the railing to rest against your side. You took deliberately slow steps down the corridor, slowly inching towards Benedict's room.

You stand in front of his door, deciding to simply slip the sketch under his door so as not to wake him. As you bend down to your knees, head close to the door, you hear something curious.

Ragged breaths slip through the crack under the door and hit your ears. You lean closer so you can hear the noises more clearly. He's muttering curses and spewing prayer after prayer—a soft 'shlick,' 'shlick,' 'shlick' repeated in a synchronized pattern. 

You had not a single clue what he was doing. Perhaps he needed assistance?

"Mr. Bridgerton," you tentatively question, though you receive no answer. The sounds in the room halt. You lean even closer.

"Mr. Bridgerton, are you in need of assistance?" You repeat a little more persistently. Again, no answer. Your hand moves to grip the door handle.

You tell yourself that if he fails to answer once more, you will go in to ensure he is alright.

"Are you quite well, sir?" You ask. Once again, there was no answer. You turn the knob quickly, pushing the door open to see him. Your eyes take in the view. Benedict was unclothed from his waist down, with a sketch in his hand. A sketch that looked eerily similar to you. His cock rests in his hand, his face gleaming with a light sheen of perspiration that made the front pieces of his hair stick to his skin.

Your eyes widen as you stumble back.

"Mr. Bridgerton, I—I am quite sorry. You seem quite…occupied," you avert your eyes awkwardly away from him. "Pardon my intrusion," your voice is unstable from embarrassment, and you feel your face heat as you turn on your heels towards the door. He quickly outstretches his hand to grasp at your own.

Your breath feels like it has been sucked from your diaphragm as you feel his skin on yours. You flick your eyes to him in an instant. His pupils are dilated. "You have not a thing to apologize for," he finally speaks, his voice steady. It was odd, considering you had just walked in on him pleasuring himself, and his cock was still out.

You pay no heed to the words coming from him as your eyes drift from his eyes to his hand on yours to his erect cock mere inches away from you. Your lips part slightly as you exhale a small sigh at the sight of such an intimate part of him that you should not be seeing, now or ever. Though, you couldn't help the knot that formed in your lower stomach at the view.

"Are you curious?" He asks, though his voice is low and rough this time around. You flick your widened eyes to him, mouth agape at his insinuation.

"Pardon me, Mr. Bridgerton, but you are truly mad," you laugh out, pulling your hand away from his and turning away from him.

"Am I?" He smoothly questions. You swivel your head towards him, letting out a huff.

"You are, sir," you confirm, your voice containing humor.

"No need for the formalities," he quips, the corners of his lips quirking at your perplexity. "Call me Benedict, I insist."

"I cannot," you shake your head as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Tell me," he inches closer to you, making sure to take in your body language. He raises his hand to reach for yours, pulling it from its place tucked under your forearm. "Is this formal?"

"Well, I—I suppose it is not," you stutter as he brings your hand to rest against his cheek, allowing you to feel his freshly shaven skin. His eyes are light, you notice. Lighter than you initially thought. 

"Then, there is no need for the formalities," he shrugs casually.

This was preposterous. You are a mere housemaid with blasphemous conceptions about someone you work for. It was unprecedented and unacceptable. Your only job was to aid the Bridgertons when they needed help, not fantasize about one of them in a compromising position.

"I am only to help you when you need assistance," you piously say, dropping your hand from his face, though he can read through you. You considered his offer; your eyes and clammy hands said it all.

"In truth, I need your assistance greatly," he tuts.

"Oh," you raise a brow, as the corner of your lip lifts to form a soft smirk. 

"You see, I am in a great deal of pain," his voice was sardonic. "Could you find it in your heart to aid in taking the ache away?"

"Pain, you say?" You bring your finger and press it on your chin, plastering a thoughtful expression. "That might constitute for my help, I suppose," you begin. "I am here to aid you in all your endeavors. Am I not?" You smile smugly, watching his eyes drift to your plush lips. 

You don't know why, but the way his eyes gloss over, taking in a feature so simple makes you feel a sense of confidence. You gently raise your hand to tilt his chin slightly, making his eyes lock with yours.

"Am I not?" You repeat, slightly more assured. His eyelids lazily close over only half of his eye as his mouth opens slightly.

"You are," he murmurs out. A self-satisfied smile spreads across your face at his compliance. You find yourself placing the palms of your hands on his chest, gently nudging him to a nearby wooden chair to sit. He leans his head back to rest his neck on the back of the chair, breathing labored at your touch.

As you move to sink to your knees between his spreading legs, out of the corner of your eye, you see another loose paper lying just next to you on the floor. You turn fully to look at it, grasping the corner of it with your hand to examine it.

It was similar to the sketch of yourself you found in the drawing room. Though, this sketch's ink seemed much more messy and tainted.

"Poor man," you flip the sketch to show him, a phony frown on your face. "You were using just this?" His eyes lazily dragged over the sketch in your hands to your face right next to it.

"I am afraid so," he tuts. You push the simple sketch into his hands before you bring your hands to his soft linen shirt, slowly slipping it off until it falls somewhere off to the side—his eyes on you the entire time.

"Do you wish to look at your sketch of me or the real me?" You ask, placing your hands on either of his thighs as you see his eyes bounce from you to the sketch and back to you.

His lip quirks as he crumbles up the sketch, tossing it to his side. You let out a light chuckle, bringing your face closer to where he aches. Your lips nearly grazed his erect cock.

"Whatever will you use now?" You breathe out, hyper-aware of his cock so close to you.

"I will find you," he breathes out, bringing his hand to grip your plump cheek. You smile before sticking your tongue out to swirl around the head softly. He hisses at the contact, moving his hand to rest in your hair.

"Dear God," he groans out as you sink him further into your mouth, flattening your tongue and tilting your head back slightly so the head slides across the roof of your mouth and skims against your teeth. His hand in your hair tightens as you suck gently as he slides in and out of your mouth.

You suck for only a short minute before you pull your mouth off, replacing it with your hand carefully and slowly pumping up and down the length of his cock.

"Is this not just satirical?" You question, paying close attention to his eyes, nearly rolling to the back of his head.

"How do you deduce?" He groans, pushing his head back further and his body up more so his cock moves more in your hand.

"In normal circumstances, I am at the mercy of your family, including you," you say, licking the seam of the lips. You continue your movements, though now they are antagonizing and slow-paced. His eyes shoot back to yours as his mouth widens, releasing ragged breaths and throaty moans.

"Though," you begin, tugging him a little bit harder as he throws his head back against the chair, "in here," his eyes peer into yours, "I am singularly and wholly in control. I have you at my mercy." 

"I quite like being at your mercy," he immediately says. You stroke him a little faster, satisfied with his response.

"Is that so, Benedict?" You inquire as he begins pushing himself into your hand faster, desperate for even more of your touch. 

Your movements continue until his body is convulsing and his mouth hangs open, moaning as he comes all over his thighs and your hand. His head hangs low as his heart palliates and his chest heaves.

You even find your own chest heaving alongside his. He picks his head up slightly to make eye contact with you, bringing his hand to brush against your bottom lip, which unbeknownst to you, was covered in blood from sinking your teeth too deep.

"Are you alright?" He questions, taking in your perplexed look. He hopes you didn't have regrets of what had just occurred since it was taboo in nature.

"I am. Are you?" You regurgitate his question, and he nods, a small smile pulling on his lips. He reaches to the table next to him to grab tissues to clean you and himself up.

Once he wipes you clean of any remnants of himself, he instructs you to make your way back before anyone notices, but not before pressing a light kiss to your temple.

You stand and turn towards the door, reaching out to grab the door handle, but before turning it, you turn your head to face his.

"Glad I could be of assistance," you murmur, not awaiting a response before you fully turn the knob and step out the door.

It may have been unbecoming. Perhaps, unlawful and unconstitutional. And substandard in every sense.

The immorality of the situation does nothing to stop you from slipping your fingers underneath your nightgown that night in your room all by your lonesome, reminiscing of the image and sound of Benedict being subdued by you, a mere housemaid. What a glorious night, indeed.

a/n: benedict is such a bottom idc also regency dirty talk is so hilarious

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[marshmallow-biscuit-blog]

What instruments do joe and tea play?

Dad taught Tea to play the piano like a little pro and Joe taught himself how to fiddle. He can also play the banjo but prefers his fiddle.

[gnomiwizard]

My feelings regarding Nickel over the course of Inanimate Insanity.