#bing image creator

[therobotmonster]

On the subject of comic books and emphasis.

Getting some use out of my Tyrannomax extras.

[metamorphicmuse]

Fear Not the Storm

[cosmos2026]

Sweets Animals🌟🍬🐈

[kimolisai]

Using Bing Create with the prompt: An oil painting, thick rised impasto, palette knife, different size brush strokes of a plus size african american woman, cherry blossoms, full length body view, whimsical, swirl pattern, with thick impasto, expansive view

[deepdreamnights]

I made a typo and prompted: whoa re the imitatiors into bing, and I don't know why GPT4 decided this was the result, but it did:

[lynnsartsworld]

🌻Meet the Artist💛

Lynn Gerhardt 💛

30 years old 🌻

Orientation: Allosexual 🌸

Art style: Is a Indie art styles…influenced by Masashi Kishimoto is my inspiration!!

Games & console on play:

Console I play on is Nintendo Switch OLED and my Laptop!!ACHN, Stardew Valley, Tomodachi and Pokémon 🍃LeafGreen💚

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My MCs:

1. April Lian Miller. 🦡

2. Remington Ellis “Remy” Allen 🐍

3. Iris Angel Cassidy. 🦅

4. Sarah Whitney Alegría.🦁

5. Layla Luna Amato.🦡

6. Richard Elizabeth “Birdie” Todd. 🦅

7. Lachlan Andrew Pierce.🦁

8. Delilah Judy Morgan.🐍

9. Gardenia Margaret Tudor🦡

10. Mary Edwards Buchanan🦡

11. Harley Joseph Hamato🐍

12. Lynn Valentine Calloway 🌻

13. Rin Yuki Watanabe 🦁

14. Elodie Miriam “Love” Lovelock 🦅

15. Gustav Einar “Charlie” Aivander 🦡

16. Boyd Chester “Cheshire” Orléans 🐍

17. Miller Grace “Millie” Hermes 🦡

18. Caspian Andromeda “Schroeder” Pearson 🩶

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💛 Hi, I’m Lynn. 🌻

I’m 30 years old and I’m an artist—though just as a hobby. I’ve been drawing for 20 years now, which feels like a huge milestone because I never really took art seriously when I was younger. But as I got older, I started to get more serious about it.

I have tremors in my hands that probably won’t ever go away, but funny enough, since I started taking art seriously, the tremors have actually calmed down a lot. Maybe something neurological rewired itself in my brain because now my drawings are much smoother and cleaner.

I absolutely love drawing April, Poppy, and Evangeline—they’re my main characters, especially April and Poppy. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without them. I’m still working on stories about them, but it’s taking some time.

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You probably won’t see those stories though, because I use ChatGPT to help write them, and I know people online can sniff out AI pretty quickly. So for now, I keep those stories mostly to myself because the internet can be scary like that. But I still love Hogwarts Legacy and I don’t think I’ll ever really leave the fandom—no matter what.

A little about me beyond art: I love chocolate, hanging out with my work friends, and meeting new people (if they’re not too busy).

Things I don’t like? Bullying, harassers, people who think way too highly of themselves, and those who bring others down for no reason. I’m terrified of needles. I hate worms and any bugs that wiggle—it seriously gives me the heebie-jeebies. I also hate climbing ladders because I’m scared of falling, but I love roller coasters!

Oh, and I drew myself recently—not how I really look but with a little blindness in my right eye because I’m kind of farsighted from astigmatism. So, it’s a bit of a spooky version of me but still cute.

In real life, my eyes are dark brown, not light olive or grey, and my hair is black. I do have a little scar on my left eyebrow from falling really hard a long time ago.

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Overall, I really hope you like this new “Meet the Artist” post—it’s way better than the last one I had (which I deleted, so it’s gone now). I also included a new drawing of myself. Just a reminder, I’m a traditional artist, and I’m happy to welcome anyone who wants to follow along.

Sorry if this sounds a little awkward or weird, but honestly, I admire every single one of you who takes the time to read and support me. I really love you all, my lovely people.

If anyone ever harasses you, don’t let them get to you—they’re just ungrateful and having a bad day. Newcomers especially should remember that. Don’t let anyone bring you down, because that’s just awful.

Anyway, I hope you all have a wonderful day, evening, or night—wherever you are, my lovely witches and wizards. Goodbye for now ⭐️!

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Some of fanfics📚

Bedroom Urgency Kiss

Rated M: Hard NSFW…🥴 ( April x Pops )

2. Piece Of April’s Lore: Ominis and Evangeline cute relationship.

Rated G: Super cute relationship 🥰!! ( Ominis and Evangeline )

Unexpected Romance: A Secret Admirer's Delightful Scheme for Poppy and April!

Rated G: Mysterious love letters 💌!!( April x Poppy )

Pieces Of April’s Lore

Rated G: ( April’s Lore story )

Raccoon Redux

Rated G: ( Hilarious Hygiene )

Onimis’ Secret Talent (very old fanfic)

Rated G: Cute Relationship between ( Ominis and Summer )

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The drawing is from my dear friend @creampuffcloudsdreaming and @lyra-prag

[human-dog-pound]

Tyler had always been the weird one in their friend group, a college sophomore with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Chad, his broad-shouldered, easygoing roommate, was the perfect target—trusting, laid-back, and up for anything. It started innocently enough during a late-night game of truth or dare in their cramped dorm room, the air thick with cheap beer and laughter. “Dare,” Chad said, grinning, slouched on the futon. Tyler leaned forward, his mind already spinning. “Act like a dog for two minutes.” Chad barked a laugh, then dropped to all fours, barking and panting, chasing his own imaginary tail. The room erupted, but Tyler watched, transfixed. Chad’s goofy commitment—crawling, wagging his hips—lit something in Tyler. Two minutes wasn’t enough.

The next day, Tyler couldn’t shake it. Chad bounding around like a dog had burrowed into his brain. He wanted more—not just a dare, but Chad being a dog, fully, naturally. He hit the campus library, digging through psychology stacks until he found it: Mind Over Matter: Techniques in Behavioral Conditioning, a dusty paperback with faded edges. It promised step-by-step methods to reshape habits, instincts, even identity. Tyler devoured it, scribbling notes about repetition, rewards, and subtle cues. Chad wouldn’t know what hit him.

Tyler started small. “Hey, Chad, fetch me a soda,” he’d say, tossing a pen across the room first, watching Chad instinctively lunge for it. He’d slip dog treats into Chad’s snack stash—peanut butter biscuits mixed with the chips—and praise him when he ate them. “Good boy,” Tyler would murmur, casual enough to dodge suspicion. He’d whistle—a sharp, two-note call—whenever he wanted Chad’s attention, pairing it with a pat on the head. Chad laughed it off at first, but soon he’d turn at the sound, grinning, expecting a treat. Tyler layered it on: tugging Chad’s sleeve to “heel” when they walked to class, tossing balled-up socks for him to retrieve. Rewards escalated—candy, a slap on the back, a “Who’s a good pup?” in a teasing tone. Chad played along, oblivious to the conditioning sinking in.

Weeks passed, and cracks appeared. Chad started crawling under the dorm table to grab dropped pens, unprompted. He’d pant when the room got hot, tongue lolling out, then catch himself and laugh. Tyler kept pushing—leaving a bowl of water on the floor, whistling Chad over to lap it up. “C’mon, pup,” he’d coax, and Chad, half-joking, would comply. The book said repetition was key, so Tyler drilled it in: whistle, treat, command, praise. Chad’s resistance faded; he’d wag his hips when Tyler walked in, a reflex he didn’t notice.

The tipping point came one evening. Tyler shoved open the dorm door, arms full of takeout, and Chad bounded over on all fours, eyes bright. Before Tyler could say a word, Chad leaned up and licked his cheek—once, twice, a wet, casual swipe like a dog greeting its owner. Tyler froze, then grinned, dropping the bags to ruffle Chad’s hair. “Hey, good pup,” he said, and Chad barked—a short, sharp yip—before flopping back to the floor. It was natural, unthinking. Tyler’s chest thrummed with victory.

From there, it snowballed. Chad stopped sitting on chairs, preferring the rug by Tyler’s bed. He’d fetch slippers without being asked, dropping them at Tyler’s feet with a proud head-tilt. In class, he’d fidget, whining softly until Tyler slipped him a treat under the desk. Friends noticed—Chad crawling into the common room, panting at jokes—but Tyler brushed it off. “He’s just quirky,” he’d say, while Chad nuzzled his leg. The book had warned about overreach, but Tyler didn’t care. He’d cracked the code.

One night, Chad didn’t climb into his bunk. Instead, he curled up on a blanket Tyler had tossed by the door, snoring softly. Tyler stared, then whistled. Chad’s head popped up, alert. “C’mere, pup,” Tyler said, patting the floor beside him. Chad crawled over, resting his chin on Tyler’s knee. “You’re my dog now, huh?” Tyler murmured. Chad yipped, licking Tyler’s hand, and that sealed it.

By semester’s end, Chad was gone—replaced by Tyler’s pet. He wore a makeshift collar Tyler fashioned from a belt, ate from bowls on the floor, and followed Tyler everywhere—heel, sit, stay. The dorm became their den; Chad slept at Tyler’s feet, barked at strangers, and licked Tyler’s face daily, a sloppy hello. Friends stopped asking; Chad was Tyler’s dog now, full-time. Tyler ditched the book—his masterpiece was complete. Chad didn’t mind. Life as a pup was simpler, and Tyler’s whistle was all he needed.

[barefistfighter]

Boxing beatdown Saturday.