#... eh. whatever. take it

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[arinmoss]

Astarion :3

[ennobaka]

I made the screaming opossum ☺️

Pattern from ComplicatedKnots on Youtube

[somerandomdudelmao]

Ngl, Viktor vaguely reminds me of Husk from Hazbin hotel. Both grumpy softies :]

On that note, have you heard of the series Helluva Boss :0 ? (It's free to watch on yt)

I don't know your exact tastes in media but the art in the show is incredible in my opinion and the story is cool.

Just wanted to know what my favourite artist though on it if you've ever heard of it. Anygay!

Love your stuff 💙. You keep doing you Cass and i wish you a good day!

I think Victor is more like Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda. But you have a point.

Yeah, I watched Helluva Boss, but I can't say I liked it much. The animation is beautiful and the art style looks interesting. I can appreciate well-done work, but this show doesn't really make me feel anything. I could have turned on a random youtube video instead and been more interested.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ouagh Wallee.... so so happy he's a seventies boy. peak fashion

bonus:

[twinkified-squid]

kissing on public transit

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

couple of mello + near doodles

[lotus-lamps]

i dont really like how this turned out but. oh well i guess. in my defense idk how to draw fire lmao

Angel belongs to @carrotkicks, check their stuff out its super cool :)

alternate version under the cut. cw eyestrain, kinda? not really idk

i dont know what im doing lmao but my brother liked this one better

maybe i'll draw gray next time? sure i'll think about it

[murdleandmarot]

Gets bored. Posts old tugger design. You know how it is

[puddleorganism]

Moth Xisuma for the swap maube?

I actually already did a moth Xisuma! But here he is again, enjoy!

[thatcoyperson]

// SESSION 9 SECRET LIFE SPOILERS [the ending] AND I MEAN MAJOR ONES

-

I got this idea from what Martyn said during his lore stream the other day and it cured me of my writers block, so I wrote this in a few hours after hearing it

[CW for blood, mentions of death, and I feel like the fact that my friend was saying "it all hurts" for like 30 minutes after reading this counts for something]

• -------- • -------- • -------- •

It’s over Scar. She's dead.

Standing in the ravine, Scar stared blankly at the stone ahead of him as those ghostly words echoed in his mind.

It was over.

He’d won.

Despite everything, he’d won.

A breathy laugh escaped him. It didn't feel like a win. Nothing about this did. It felt hollow and empty, meaningless.

A win was supposed to be a grand show to the world that you can make it to the end, a final showing that it can be done despite everything. One last stand against the world. That's what a win was meant to be.

But this wasn't any of that, not when Scar was stuck frozen in place, the faint rhythmic sound of liquid dripping off the rocks somewhere behind him being the only thing he could hear once the blood rushing to his ears subsided. How was any of this meant to feel like a win, like the grand finale to something that had been the last few months of his life when it was the furthest thing from grand? When he felt the furthest thing from victorious? How was he even meant to feel victorious or grand in a situation like this? He'd spent the whole season alone just trying to make friends, only for him to win by shooting the closest person he has to one of those.

Alone…

He never liked being alone.

How did he win while he was alone?

How did the guy with no friends win?

He laughed to himself, bow still held in one hand, and using the other to push his hair back. A pained smile was painted across his face as he laughed, asking himself how? How did he win? How did he make it this far all alone? How did he manage to tell himself that just one more day, one more day and it would be worth it enough times to where he won? It didn't make sense. Not to him at least.

No matter how long he stood there wondering to himself, there was still one thing that was left to be done. Hit the button.

He had succeeded his task after all, right? Scar had won, despite how meaningless this victory truly was.

All he had to do was hit the button and it would all be over. It would finally end. He could go back to Hermitcraft, his home, his friends. He finally wouldn't be alone anymore.

It didn't quite feel like his own movements when he started to climb out of the ravine, disconnected from everything going on. He desperately ignored the hazy sight of a red shawl to the side of his vision, feeling sick if he put any thought into what he knew was laying under it.

He didn't feel nearly as sick passing by a similar black shawl on the ground up on the surface, orange hair catching his eye for a split second as he slowly made his way across the blood stained grass and battle worn landscape of the world. And, shortly after, he reached the statue that stood in the centre of it all.

The Secret Keeper.

The being that doomed him from the very start. Quietly, he wondered to himself, was it proud? Proud that it's favourite player to mess with - proud that the one it moulded into the unwilling villain - had won? Was it proud of everything it had done, all the pain and suffering it caused? Or did it even think at all. Maybe it was just a simple stone statue, designed to have no will or intention, to have the sole purpose of handing out tasks at random, and Scar was just losing it from being alone for so long. He’d likely never get an answer.

It didn't matter though. Not when he was about to leave, not when he was about to finally be free from this hell he was stuck in, not when he was going to finally be able to see his friends again.

Letting out a shaky breath, Scar reached down and pressed the button.

…

A faint click echoed around the area, and then nothing. Nothing happened. It was just silence. No gust of wind to whisk him away back home, no welcoming voices of the hermits congratulating him on his win as they fade into view. No anything. Just silence. Painfully loud silence. Nothing changed. He was still there. Alone.

“Uhm… haha real- real funny there guys,” Scar chuckled awkwardly, his voice filled with unease. Why was he still here? That should’ve worked. Staring up at the Secret Keeper, he waited for a moment to see if it would react at all.

Nothing.

With a level of anxiety he hadn’t felt before, the button was pressed again, and again nothing happened. The world continued to stand still around him.

The feeling of unease began to grow in Scar’s gut, mixing with fear and making him feel sick all over again. “Aha, ok now thats-” The button was pressed again. Nothing. “-that’s enough this isn’t-” Again. Nothing. “-this isn’t funny anymore- oh god no please.”

Scar’s chest tightened the more he pressed on the button, becoming more and more desperate every press. “No no please just- please just take me home please I can’t do this anymore please.”

Tears began to swell in his eyes, panic truly setting in as he pleaded for an escape. Why wasn’t it working- why wasn’t it doing anything?! Was it broken now that the game was over? Was that why he was stuck- why he couldn’t get this stupid button to work?!

Falling to his knees beside the button, his head hit against the corner of the pedestal it was on. Pain slashed across his forehead at the impact, and he could feel the sickeningly familiar warmth of blood begin to well from the cut.

“PLEASE GOD JUST LET ME GO HOME!” he screamed, hitting the button again and again, his hand becoming sore and bruised the more time went on. The more he begged and pleaded and cried for whatever stupid entity was in control of this game to just let him go.

All he wanted was to go home, to see Jellie, to see his friends, to not be alone anymore. He’d been alone for too long, wasn’t that enough?

Loud cries and desperate pleas slowly turned into quiet sobs, and he brought his hand away from the button, resting them both on the edge of the pedestal beside his head.

“Please…” he sobbed, blood running down into his eyes and mixing with his tears. “Please just let me go.” a moment passed for him to catch his breath. Then, quietly: “I can’t do this anymore, please…”

His pleas went unheard. He was alone.

Alone…

He never liked being alone.

[storfulsten]

Whitty And Bf Personality Swap? Lovely Art By The Way, Truly Inspiring. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

hm I guess k, not feeling the most creative but here lol

idk lol

mostly based on this bc idk thought the vibes looked fitting in theory lmao:

[novelconcepts]

Watching my mom evolve over the years has been such a fun experience. For context, she's got nine kids (at least five of whom have turned out to be queer; at least four of those have turned out to be non-binary), and for most of my life, she was just your average Gen-X Irish-Italian Catholic mom. She didn't really do vocal homophobia or whatever, but she also clearly didn't know how to handle it when her firstborn interrupted a Red Wings game to announce, "I think I'm gay." (Spoiler alert: that was me at fifteen or sixteen. In retrospect, of course the Tomboy For Life who had never been remotely interested in boys but was ALWAYS talking about actresses/female friends at school a bit too much wound up being gay. And announcing it. During a hockey game. Of course.)

She also didn't really know how to handle that same kid starting to date in college, bringing a girl home, and so on. She did a bit better when the next kid came out as a lesbian, but when that kid came out as non-binary (shout-out to that sib for doing some of the heavy lifting first), it was a whole new deal. It clearly had never crossed her mind before, that this might come up. Gay? She was figuring out gay. Gender stuff? Whew. A shiny new Pokemon of a situation.

The changed pronouns have been a bit difficult for my mom. The new names still get jumbled. (In fairness, the old names got jumbled, too--it was always a laundry list of names before she got to yours, no matter what you went by, because there were just so goddamned MANY of us.) It gets harder when she's stressed, and sometimes she just seems not to be getting it. I know it frustrates my siblings deeply. It can grate on me, too. You just want people to understand out the gate, to take you at your word, to shift gears without a slip-up. You don't want the awkward conversations, the painful skips, the rough patches. It's tempting to just give up on people if they don't stick the landing immediately.

But if you look a bit deeper, there's such a soft mama bear energy to my mom. Such a stubborn determination to get it right where it really counts. My mother, who never once skipped Sunday mass as I was growing up, has left the church completely because "they don't treat my family well." My mother, who once told me not to bring a girl home because it might confuse the youngest children, bought Converse sneakers expressly for my wedding to a woman. And my mother, who had never known the word non-binary, who didn't seem aware of the trans umbrella at all before her kids started huddling beneath it, keeps leaping to tell me all about the shows she's watching lately. The ones where "there's a non-binary character, and it's so cool that people can see that now!" The ones where "and this one is non-binary, and they're so great, and maybe it'll teach the shitty politicians of the world that they're just people, you know?"

Sometimes you just have to give people a little space. Let them stumble occasionally. They're going to. They're going to trip up. My mom hurt my feelings so many times when I was young, said so many of the wrong things right on the heels of the right ones, confused and upset me because I couldn't understand why she just didn't get it. But here she is, almost sixty years old, and so gleeful to tell me about the power of queer representation on TV. She doesn't always get it right, but goddamn, does she love her kids, and goddamn, does she want the world to love people like her kids, too.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm surprised you haven't posted any Welcome home stuff recently! Honestly kinda makes me sad since I love your WH art and stuff

yea y'all are gonna have to be Patient w/ me bc

a) i have like. a week left to pack all of my stuff before i need to shove everything into a uhaul and leave, so its crunch time! leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else

b) to be honest my mental health is the worst its been in years - which is fine, its whatever, i can deal. it's not as bad as it could be and im handling it! like a champ, even! but also its leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else

c) had a minor crisis over my art and how i interact w/ WH, and i realized im not scribbling enough of what I want. ive mostly been trying to please people and do as asked and thats! not good! so i want to temper expectation & reassert that im Not a WH art blog - its just a hyperfixation / something i love rn. i draw what i enjoy & what i want in the moment.

[linkneol091]

JOSUKE MY GUY

[canadianlucifer]

A remake of this drawing I did a while ago, but out of paper! My first time trying something like this, it was fun!