#patrick block

[ducklooney]

No matter what universe, cartoons, comics or video games, Donald will always be the best parent to his nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie. Happy 90th birthday to the best uncle, as well as a happy belated father's day.

Please like and reblog if you support that Donald Duck is also a great parent, father and uncle to his nephews.

P.S. The second image is a redraw of Carl Barks Golden Helmet by Patrick Block, and the fourth image is artwork by the genius Lara Molinari who painted Duck Avenger (Paperinik) with his nephews as him.

[balu8]

 Patrick Block: Magica De Spell and Scrooge McDuck

Source: Steven Ng (comicartfans)

Magica De Spell and Scrooge McDuck by Patrick Block, in Steven Ng's Donald Duck & Uncle Scrooge by PATRICK BLOCK Comic Art Gallery Room (comicartfans.com)

[everysunsofthebes]

Art Donaldson | Challengers (2024)

[jesuistrestriste]

happy belated bday sage!

but anyway, had a thought—wearing/using those edible Jessica Simpson lotions whips and body sprays around art/patrick. HELPPP, IM LOSING IT. The neck kisses would go crazy.

hiii darling:3 thank you so much <3 i love this concept .. been in a persistent writing funk longer than id like to admit, but this idea is coaxing me out a bit ..

cw (18+) : art and patrick having a bit of a scent kink, getting handsy, kissing, fingering, both boys giving messy oral (reader receiving), coming untouched, reader has afab anatomy

the whipped body cream that sticks to your skin like frosting has art and patrick sniffing the air like hungry mutts as soon as you’re in the door of your guys’ shared apartment.

you’d been offered a few samples of a new body-care collection at the mall earlier, and it all sounded appealing enough to try, at the very least—edible lotions, lipglosses, and kissable body sprays that smelled like spun sugar and tasted like sweet, heady caramel. was the line of products a bit gimmicky in nature? sure, but it was cute..! and you knew that your boys both had a wicked sweet tooth.

“what is that?” patrick murmurs, putting down his blackberry and glancing over the back of the couch toward where you stand, kicking off your shoes and letting them clunk to the floor, “you smell different..”

art’s swallowing thickly from the opposite side of the sofa, his hands clutching the cushions under him. “god, it’s strong,” he breathes out, but there’s no evidence of disapproval in his tone. he actually sounds drunk, more than anything. his blonde curls fall over his forehead as he looks you up and down. the sight of him doing that is all-too-familiar. it gets your stomach swooping and your sex twitching.

you suddenly feel like you’re being circled by two sharks, the new smell clinging to your skin being the chum in the water.

“edible lotion,” you smirk coyly, walking into the kitchen to turn and reach up into the cupboard for a glass, “new jessica simpson products. there was a girl promoting them at the—“

the words fizzle out and die in your chest when you feel two very different sets of hands begin to feel you up from behind. you hadn’t even heard them move—hadn’t even noticed the way they prowled onto the linoleum tiling as soon as your back was to them, eager to get a better whiff. stalking you like you were nothing more than a helpless baby bunny, practically begging for someone to sink their teeth in.

patrick’s on your left side, using his right hand to grope your ass as his other cups your jaw and guides your head backward so that he can bury his nose into your saccharine pulse. the heat of your skin makes the scent your very own; the naturally warm, gentle smell of your body mixing with the tempting scent of artificial vanilla cupcake. he inhales deep and low, his tongue darting out to lathe the side of your neck. “fuck, you’re actually sweet,” he moans, hips pressing into your side, “have you tasted yourself?”

you choke around a whine and shake your head, to which he immediately responds by licking over your skin once more and then tipping your chin down so that he can reach your lips and kiss you. it’s sloppy and feverish; his tongue slides against yours and you can taste the sugar in his spit like he’s just sucked on a lollipop. while the brunette keeps you close and keeps your mouth occupied, you feel art’s hands roam your stomach as he drags his tongue tentatively over the space below your right ear.

“woah.. s’good,” he slurs, “you taste like marshmallows.”

there’s something so innocent about the way he says it, even if the current doing of his right hand is anything but. his fingers fumble with your bottoms until he can shove his hand down into them and then into your panties. quickly. desperately. the pads of his digits seek out and circle your swollen clit in the next instant like he’s determined to repay you for the treat you brought home, and his left hand meets the other side of your rear that isn’t already being cupped by pat.

they ravage you. they take you apart faster than your muddled mind can keep up with—tugging and kneading and folding you like pastry dough.

they roll and thrust their clothed erections into your frame like they’re desperate for more sustenance. patrick kisses you until your lips stop moving from all of the pleasure, leaving him to do all of the work while you lean into him like a broken doll. licking into your open mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. art rubs over your bundle of nerves until it twitches and throbs at his ministrations—so close to the edge, so ready to fall into that blanket of burning, sweaty euphoria, that your legs can’t help but buckle under your dead weight. lucky for you, the two tennis players are more than ready to hold you up between them.

“i wanna eat you,” patrick suddenly groans, sliding down to his knees with a heavy thump, his grasp moving to begin ridding you of your lower garments. art whines into your jaw before he follows suit and collapses into a trembling heap at your feet. they work together—just like they do during a doubles match—to steady you and pull off your clothing, their mouths simultaneously pecking your thighs in between their moments of effort. you can hardly process what’s happening when they next urge you to spin and lean back against the edge of the countertop. reverent baby-blues and devoted watercolor-green orbs stare up at you; waiting, begging, silently asking for permission to pull down your underwear and begin devouring.

“oh, god.. please?” one whispers breathlessly.

“i need this, i can’t wait anymore,” another shudders out.

you’re too dazed from the accidental edging to process who is who. you just know that you have two pretty athletes at your disposal, and they’ll do anything for you—they’ve always been this way in your presence.

“fff-fuck, fuck,” you moan, looking down through lowered lids to watch as art’s thumb brushes over your covered bud and patrick’s fingertips rub at your folds through the soaked fabric. your pelvis jolts and vaults up against their soft touches.

one nod is all that it takes to have them practically tearing off the last layer that keeps them from your arousal. it gets pulled down your legs and discarded off to the side, and then it’s nothing but blinding satisfaction. your hands fly to clutch at each head of hair as they makeout between your legs—slurping and suckling and fluttering their tongues over your sensitive parts. art’s brow pinches up as he whines, blonde lashes fluttering, and patrick’s eyes roll back helplessly before squeezing shut. their neglected cocks swell even further in their briefs. you know they’re as close to orgasm as you are, even if they haven’t been touched. art always finishes from going down on you, and patrick chronically comes without any physical stimulation just from hearing you in the throes of fulfillment. you fist their strands in your palms. they double their efforts.

“mm—mmmngh—!” art sobs into your cunt, sliding his lips up and down before attaching his mouth to your clit and hollowing his cheeks. his teeth just barely graze you there, causing an electric bolt of pleasure to shoot up your spine. your hips surge against him.

in the same breath, patrick’s tongue slides rapidly through your folds. he drinks in every drop of syrupy fluid that seeps from your pussy, and loudly gulps it down like he’s putting on a show for you—wanting to let you know that he’s savoring every single moment, that nothing is going to waste. he plunges his tongue into your hole, swirling it as best he can inside to reach the bouncy spot inside your walls. lewd, squelching noises erupt from your parts as he orally fucks you with everything he’s got..

“mhmm, mhmm—nngh—“ he whines out, more frequently and higher in pitch with every passing second.

the sound of their moaning mixes with your own as your release begins to roll in like the tide and drag you out. your thighs squeeze around their heads and you let out a wail of a warning, your back arching as you ride it out on their faces.

“i’m coming,” you mewl, “it’s so—AAH—!”

the vibrations from their shared increase in volume only prolongs your orgasm and keeps you strung up tight with oversensitivity. their movements sync and slow and then halt altogether as their jaws slack and they gasp into each other’s open mouths—climaxing in their boxers at the same exact time, the taste of you filling their senses and pushing them over. it’s romantic, really.

two pairs of hands cling to your calves as they pant against your limbs. your grip in their hair softens, then relaxes, before you begin petting their mussed-up loose curls and untidy waves. you sigh with relief.

“that was so good,” you breathe out, chuckling around the words of praise, “felt so good..”

they nod against your thighs. sweaty foreheads bumping into your body as they do.

“.. ‘m still coming.. coming out,” art sniffles, tears clinging to his lashes. he’s overwhelmed, as he usually is after any sort of sexual activity. patrick notices this through the haze of his own afterglow and places a comforting hand on his friend’s upper back. art leans into it, tugging at the front of his sticky sweatpants with a wet hiccup, and quakes at the sound of patrick moaning lowly again. the brunette jolts. then he kisses your leg.

“did you.. did you buy any of that stuff.. the body cream..” he speaks between quiet heaves for air.

you chew your lip and shake your head, “no.”

“i’ll give you fifty bucks to go back and buy everything,” the sound of his voice grows more hoarse as he brushes his fingertips against your ankle, “.. then you can come back and we’ll put it all over artie..”

you laugh softly, patrick snickers tiredly, and art whines at the implication. your voice sounds out unsteadily but with the sensuality of a seasoned flirt.

theyre almost too much for you to handle.. but not quite.

“deal.”

tags : @voidsuites @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist @tacobacoyeet @nozhdyved

[donutdrawsthings]

I made this in the summer so now I can finally post it!

Bonus:

Jamie is dressed as the Wulver from Scottish mythology, and Zoe is Kiki from Kiki's delivery service!

[rogueapostle]

more incorrect challengers tweets cause y’all liked the last one

[cowleyes]

👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

[lvrrgirlll]

When you woke up, you were still wrapped tightly in the soft sheets of your bed, but Patrick was nowhere to be found. You were almost always up before him, so finding the spot beside you cold and empty was a shock. As you sat up, stretching and rubbing your eyes, trying to cast away the urge to curl back in bed, you heard quiet humming coming from the bathroom. He must be in there.

You padded towards the bathroom on bare feet, Patrick’s big t-shirt (that smelled vaguely of cigarettes, sweat, and the cheap, lavender detergent he used) the only thing covering you. The door was cracked open anyways, so you nudged it a bit, propping yourself up on the doorframe. He hadn’t noticed you yet, focusing much too hard on his shaving, which he had to do often. You loved seeing him like this. The little moments when he was just completely Patrick, unaware and uncaring of any other eyes on him.

You’d miss the scruff, but you knew that stubble would be growing in within the next few days anyways. “Morning,” you announced yourself after he rinsed the remaining shaving cream off. The tile was cold, causing a shiver to run down your spin as you approached him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he smiled down at you, wrapping his arms around your hips and pressing a kiss to your forehead. His curls were still a bit damp, a clear sign that he had showered too while you were asleep. “You must’ve been tired, sleeping beauty,” he chuckles, voice still a tad gravely since he hadn’t spoken yet since waking up.

“I guess so,” you sighed, giggling at the nickname. “I was surprised you were up before me.” You brought a hand up to his now smooth face, running the back of it against his skin. His face was cold, likely from the water, but his hands were warm as they trailed under the t-shirt to massage carelessly at the skin of your hips, your waist, and up to your back.

“Here,” your skin felt cool again as one of his hands departed, reaching to hand you your toothbrush. “I already put on a pot of coffee.” With that, he kissed your forehead again, running a hand through your messy hair and heading towards the kitchen, no doubt to return with a warm mug of coffee, just how you like it.

[aw4rmplace]

I think i hauve covid

[mrpartyrocker]

yeah i be finding shit

[kitnita]

sharks' first home win since january 27! — CHI vs SJS — 03.13.25

[ducklooney]

While the Epic Mickey video game is getting a remastered version (and that's a good thing, because that video game is really underrated), it's a shame that Disney canceled a video game project called Epic Donald for stupid reasons. It would be like Epic Mickey (spin-off to be exact), but Donald would star as the hero who saves Duckburg from various troubles and villains. Donald would be like Indiana Jones, but you should know that Indiana Jones was modeled after the Carl Barks comics and the adventures of Scrooge McDuck, Donald Duck and Huey, Dewey and Louie.

That game would be based on the Carl Barks comics with some references from the OG Ducktales and in addition to Donald, there would be Scrooge McDuck, Donald's nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie, Gyro Gearloose, Magica de Spell, Launchpad McQuack, Beagle Boys, Gladstone Gander and other characters (with appearances by Goofy and Mickey). And these are some of the concepts for this game which was specially left by one of the last current American writers and artists for Donald Duck comics Patrick Pat Block. This idea was put forth by Warren Spector himself. And you can learn more about it from this video clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50doEJYcwv8

Articles related to this: https://www.thegamer.com/epic-donald-epic-mickey/ https://mynintendonews.com/2016/08/19/concept-art-from-cancelled-epic-donald-game-surfaces/

And thanks to gaming historian Liam Robertson for the excellent video clip analysis.

It was also planned to realize the video game Epic Mickey Racers in which famous Disney heroes would race, and one of them would be Scrooge McDuck who would ride a motorcycle together with Donald's nephews. This sounds familiar, doesn't it?

It's a great shame that they canceled this video game (especially after Ducktales Remastered Game), because if they had realized it, they would have realized how much they could do with Donald Duck, his family and friends, and the comic book material, which there is a lot of, and people, through the video game, could be interested. for Carl Barks comics, as well as other comics by other authors, especially in America where interest in Donald Duck comics has declined since the 1980s era. In Europe he would be even more popular because Donald is a much more popular character than Mickey (which is not to say that Mickey doesn't have a role in his comics, especially look at Egmont and the Italian comics) and has a significant role in those comics. I have a feeling that American Disney has a lot of intolerance towards Disney comics, which is unfortunate. Shame on you Disney!

I wish that this idea and this video game could be realized and that Donald could be restored to his old reputation. This is just my opinion.

Feel free to like and reblog this if you support this!

[balu8]

Patrick Block: Scrooge McDuck

Source: Giuseppe Petronio (comicartfans)

Poorest Duck , in the April 2021: Invincible and Image characters Comic Art Sketchbook (comicartfans.com)

[bedlund]

they're not in love and don't forget it!

[deadindeathvalley]

So like, maybe I'm just old but did the internet collectively forget that Ryan Ross cheated on Keltie and enabled Shane Morris to be an absolute monster on the internet? This new generation of PATD fans absolutely idolizing Ryan and hating Brendon for shit he didn't even do his wild to me.

[spongebob-connoisseur]

Something cute I saw at the store today <3