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tuxedodragon.bsky.social
tux, local queer cryptid!
@tuxedodragon.bsky.social
880 followers 110 following 100 posts
[ tux or theo | they/it | 20s | creature, not human ]

a silly little account for posting my silly little arts! i draw furry critters, comics, and other things~

check out my website @ https://tuxedodragon.art/
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tuxedodragon.bsky.social
tux, local queer cryptid! @tuxedodragon.bsky.social · Feb 25
🌲 hey there, i'm Tux, also called Theo! i'm a shapeshifting noodle critter, furry comic artist, potential tf hazard, and a number of other things! X3

🌲 this profile's mainly for posting my art! you might see me occasionally reshare art from other artists as well!

🌲 check the reply for my links! ⬇️
a digital drawing of a black and white creature with a long tail and six limbs, it's body configured like a centaur's. it is modeling a UFO-themed outfit.
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
chowfur.art
affirmations 💫

🌻 #myart #furryart #fisher
Two identical dragons hold hands, spinning around each other. Text circles them reading, " I AM ME, I AM OKAY, I CAN DO ANYTHING, I AM MYSELF."
April 6, 2024 at 7:32 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
mysterycryptid.bsky.social
Part two in the Freshly Minted Cryptid art series thingy

If you wanna read part two of the story you gotta go to my Furaffinity because I am not making like 24+ posts on bsky just to post the story here www.furaffinity.net/view/62941924/

#amphimorpho #amphimorphoart #transformationart
A large comic tailing the transformation of a human into an Amphimorpho. She looks down at her handpaw and remarks "so you've turned into some kinda... freaky... long... creature" looking up as she continues "I guess it can't get much weird-" getting cut off with a "hrrk- what in the comedic timing" The next two panels outline little limbs budding forth and pushing into limblike shapes. By the second panel its evident how surprising this is. And by the 6th panel Lenora is sat on her hind legs looking down at her almost completely grown out legs saying "More arms... legs?" before she finds her way onto her back with a little flop! Speaking more while looking at her paws "Another pair of legs... I don't feel all that surprised" Staring at them in utter shock.
November 10, 2025 at 10:19 AM
tuxedodragon.bsky.social
btw, did y'all know that i've got a dragon hoard of my own? it's CRAFT SUPPLIES ✨🧶🧵

i'm in the process of decluttering my space, and have a bunch of stuff from past fursuit projects i no longer need - prefer PDX local pickup, but also willing to ship! ;3

docs.google.com/document/d/1...
a messy doodle of a content-looking creature sitting atop a pile of various arts and crafts supplies with the text "Dragon hoard of craft supplies" above it.
November 6, 2025 at 9:19 PM
tuxedodragon.bsky.social
i have found out that a) emojis don't work super well on Postybirb, and b) moderation labeled this adult for ??? reasons

functional apps 🥴
tuxedodragon.bsky.social tux, local queer cryptid! @tuxedodragon.bsky.social · 5d
what if we were both creatures just playing in the leaves?
:fallen_leaf: :maple_leaf: :fallen_leaf: :maple_leaf: :fallen_leaf: 

#tuxarts #amphimorpho #fursona #autumn
An illustration of two mostly green, noodly creatures jumping and rolling around in piles of golden orange leaves on the forest floor.
November 6, 2025 at 6:57 PM
tuxedodragon.bsky.social
what if we were both creatures just playing in the leaves?
:fallen_leaf: :maple_leaf: :fallen_leaf: :maple_leaf: :fallen_leaf: 

#tuxarts #amphimorpho #fursona #autumn
An illustration of two mostly green, noodly creatures jumping and rolling around in piles of golden orange leaves on the forest floor.
November 6, 2025 at 6:43 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
tomscud.bsky.social
here ya go
Mr. Rogers looking out a window with a word balloon: "Yes ... ha ha ha ... YES!"
July 31, 2025 at 7:31 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
mintcashew.bsky.social
central market street! 🥢✨
November 5, 2025 at 3:11 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
zuccnini.bsky.social
Assorted doodles
[ #art #sketch ]
November 4, 2025 at 9:12 PM
tuxedodragon.bsky.social
good day, critters! decided to do a fresh post for my fundraiser - we're 70% of the way there! 🎉

if we could get it to 100% by Dec, that'd be amazing! i could especially use the extra funds rn, since i normally rely on SNAP benefits to feed myself ^^"

thank you all! 💛

gofund.me/b54aa79d9
Donate to Help A Queer Artist Recover Comfortably After Top Surgery, organized by Theo Wilde
Hey there, I’m Theo! If you don’t already know me, I’m a friendly… Theo Wilde needs your support for Help A Queer Artist Recover Comfortably After Top Surgery
gofund.me
November 3, 2025 at 8:04 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
brodnork.bsky.social
TWO WEEKS LEFT to back Stomp and the Sword of Miracles, a character-driven metroidvania on Kickstarter!

Meet a charming cast of quirky creatures, explore an island filled with secrets, and save the world from a mischievous god of chaos!

🌟 www.kickstarter.com/projects/bee...

Demo available now!!!
October 28, 2025 at 12:05 AM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
87sukiyaki.bsky.social
October 30, 2025 at 1:05 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
catboots.co.uk
bear witness! to my beautiful and terrible sons

please feed them cheeseburgers, the cheapest you can find. gourmet will offend.
October 30, 2025 at 2:43 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
coolartcorner.bsky.social
hey guys, i need help after being disowned for being transgender and having my car totaled in the same month

if you see this please share/comment/boost thank you ❤️‍🩹

gofund.me/5c6e99e7b
Donate to Help Bengly Rebuild After A Family Loss and a Totaled Car, organized by Bengly Anderson
Hi everyone, My name is Bengly Anderson, and on September… Bengly Anderson needs your support for Help Bengly Rebuild After A Family Loss and a Totaled Car
gofund.me
October 25, 2025 at 8:12 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
juleshroom.bsky.social
limited copies from my first printing of my "it's better when we share" 3-color risograph print are now available on my webshop for 20 bux each!
grab one at justrightzines.com !

i'll also be featuring the print & original sketches for the piece in the @furpocalypse.org art show <3
risograph print featuring 2 doggywolfy creatures, a violet one sitting on the lap of a warm orange one. they are sharing a stick and sitting on a big branch wrapping around them. also there are bugs
October 20, 2025 at 5:15 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
romecartoons.bsky.social
hello, seattle 🦊🍂
patreon.com/rometwin
GwenFox holding on to the ceiling handle of a Seattle Subway as she looks out the window seeing the buildings outside. The image's color pallet is various shades of red and green.
October 18, 2025 at 7:32 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
getoutthefloat.com
At the moment we are running a poll about which bioluminescent creature names to use for our laser tag teams. The poll is in our telegram announcement channel. :)

t.me/getoutthefloat

@tuxedodragon.bsky.social's Amphimorphos are in 8th place; is there any chance they'll make it to the top?
GOTF: Announcements
Get Out The Float is here to share the Big Toy Agenda and to occasionally make announcements about upcoming events and fake mews. GOTF Chat: https://t.me/+ByCGqaL342pkMjBj GOTF Inflatables Chat: http...
t.me
October 14, 2025 at 11:13 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
naomiromeroart.bsky.social
Some old doodles of my late cate, Lucas, who we miss dearly. <3
October 15, 2025 at 2:50 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
brodnork.bsky.social
My exploration-focused metroidvania, STOMP AND THE SWORD OF MIRACLES, is now LIVE on Kickstarter!

Explore a world full of lost secrets, meet a cast of charming characters, and use the creatures around you to your advantage to reach new heights.

www.kickstarter.com/projects/bee...

DEMO LINKS BELOW
October 13, 2025 at 7:06 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
frogteam.games
Only 5 days until the Stomp and the Sword of Miracles demo/Kickstarter launch!
October 8, 2025 at 7:56 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
peripendrake.art
Hop! 🚋🐰🍊
October 8, 2025 at 9:17 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
satuwn.bsky.social
ferretaur time
October 6, 2025 at 5:40 AM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
presumptuousspace.bsky.social
I went to the feral kickz art market today and I DIDNT KNOW @tuxedodragon.bsky.social WAS THE ARTIST WHO MADE THIS IMAGE LOL. I remembering seeing it forever ago in a random discord server and thinking this was the funniest thing ever! Such a small world out there! Wish i brought money to buy stuff!
October 4, 2025 at 11:06 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
snackpony.bsky.social
rainbow dragon from my sketchbook 🌈
September 30, 2025 at 1:34 AM
tuxedodragon.bsky.social
hey critters!! are you in PDX this coming weekend? come check out the@feralkickz.bsky.social furry art market this saturday at the Q Center (4115 N Mississippi Ave)! ;3
i've got a table, and you can buy my silly stickers, buttons, and a few more odds and ends i've put together~
A brightly-colored poster showing Tux coiled around a utility pole, slapping down a sticker amongst several other stickers and flyers.
September 29, 2025 at 11:00 PM
Reposted by tux, local queer cryptid!
shimi.bsky.social
New zine: “Look Into My Eyes One Last Time”

A final love letter to the self I shed
A prayer for the creature. Becoming
A reckoning, a surrender. Homecoming

This is my deepest wish laid bare—needle, fur, breath, & mercy. Being held with a care I never found.

#AnimalHRT #Therianthropy #ShortStory
A hand-drawn black-and-white cover image in a sketchy ink style. At the top, large stenciled type reads: “LOOK INTO MY EYES ONE LAST TIME.” Below the title is a syringe and a small medicine vial labeled “LUPINEX – Therionyl – 5mL,” with a stylized eye logo on the label. The vial and syringe are crosshatched with vintage texture lines. Below the drawing, in handwritten script, is the phrase: “Homecoming, not vanishing” and the signature Shimi & Critter. [Art on Page] A detailed graphite drawing of a wolf’s eyes. One, the left is more formed than the right — indicating a near but not complete transition. The fur around them is dense and wispy, rendered in fine pencil lines that suggest softness and depth. The eyes are highly realistic and expressive, staring directly outward with intense, soulful focus. They seem alert but ancient—wide with instinct, watching as if waiting for something to begin. The drawing fades at the edges into blank white space, giving the eyes a floating, disembodied presence. Look into my eyes one last time Look into my eyes. Hold them close until you can see the last scrap of me — the part that counts thoughts in lists, that weighs choices against rules, that folds shame into tidy, human-shaped pockets. Watch it loosen. Watch the corners of doubt unhook themselves like small animals from a net and dart away. There is no melodrama here, no violent yanking; it slips. The human mind peels like old bark, and underneath, the thing that always was settles warm and terrible and simple. They give me the last injection in a room that smells faintly of cedar and lemon. No needles, no cold clinical lecture — only the careful hands of doctors, veterinarians and nurses who know which bones to cradle and which stories to leave untold. I breathe. I lost the ability to count days back. I let the bracing liquid be a gate, not an instruction manual. I do not want to name it; names are the thin net that caught me for years. The burn is a rumour. It goes through me sideways — a quiet rearrangement, like a convent bell that signals not death but a calling. My limbs answer first. They stop thinking of movement and begin to remember it: how to fold, to coil, to push. Tendons unlearn the polite phrasing of two-legged steps and curve toward the old, fourfold geometry of running. My hands tighten and flatten; the knuckles find a new logic. Fur prickles along my forearms as if a thousand small moths take flight together and settle again. Each hair is a note in a chord I’ve felt… no… known in my bones since childhood. Look again. See how the pupils widen, how the whites retreat like a shy moon. My last maps of metaphor — the maps that turned hunger into lists and longing into projects — dissolve. Where there had been a ledger of self, there is now only the immediate ledger of scent and sound and the earth’s exact tilt beneath my weight. I do not mourn the maps. I never used them as well as the human world predicted and as I pretended. Sound changes. Those little, trivial noises of the room condense into a chorus: the slow tick of breath in the person beside me, the whisper of fabric, the distant wet confluence of gutters. And underneath that: a low, patient life-frequency — root and soil and river. It is not music so much as an acknowledgment. I find I can hear the insect conversation inside the walls, the sap walking up the birch, the small, stupid heartbeat of a mouse two blocks away. There is an intimacy to it that is almost rude. Breath becomes work and worship at once. My ribcage narrows, then widens in ways I know but cannot name. Milk memories — a thing to shame into silence when human — rise like a tide: the cadence of suckling, the doctrinal simplicity of being called to feed and to protect. A swelling around my belly that is not fat but purpose. I think of my children who never were, of the packs I have loved in mute pieces. The notion of motherhood is larger than gender; it is a compass with teeth. My children! You are my children and you are my all! My jaw shifts. I feel the slow, inevitable rearrangement — a socket loosens, a hinge finds its voice. A tooth erupts where an organised thought had lived. The smell of iron, rain-damp soil, and sleeping bodies that have waited for me — flooding my mouth like saliva. Tears come and I do not know if they are human or creature; they taste of salt and release. There is a tenderness in my own trembling that I have never allowed before. Outside the window, someone whose scent I knew laughs and it sounds to me like a distant bell. The handlers murmur: careful, gentle, let her and her pack decide. My mouth forms the shape and bark of guttural assent I could not voice when I was wholly human. Somewhere a crate opens as if the world is taking a breath with me. They will test me further, yes. They will see whether my newness walks toward the wild or clings to the small, safe hands of fosterers who will teach me boundaries, how to pass in a world of paved things. I do not fear them. I am no longer wrapped in that ledger — of consent, of cost, of consequence. I am wrapped in appetite and mercy. The choice, if there is one, feels less like an argument and more like a direction: toward den or home, toward the kill lovingly taken or the bowl lovingly given. Look once more. There is no human drama in my eyes now — only depth, like a riverbed where stones remember every footstep. The last scrap of thought, the tiny librarian of my life who loved lists, things and order, exhales and steps back through the doorway we are leaving open. I feel it go, and where it is gone there is fullness, a pulse that answers the creature’s call without translation. This is not a loss. It is not my obliteration. It is the solving of a long, clenched equation. I am not lessened. I am finally the shape I have been learning. Look into my eyes, one last time. I am awakening. — Shimi & Critter @shimi.bsky.social
September 26, 2025 at 1:47 AM