#thank you for the ask mutual!

[fluffypichu876]

Also Corvo for the character ask)

CORVO THE RAT DAD!!!! he's a very interesting character hehehe

* favorite thing about him: I LOVE HIS DESIGN IN THE FIRST GAME SO MUCH but as a character i really admire his unbreakable will to save and protect his daughter despite all the horrible things that happened to him, especially if we're talking about low-chaos corvo, who doesn't allow such a terrible world to corrupt him.

he would never stain the hands that held his beloved jessamine and emily now would he

* least favorite thing about him: i wish his campaign in dishonored 2 had its own story, instead of just being emily's with rewritten dialogue.

* favorite line: he doesn't talk at all in the first game, and i have played dish2 on emily's campaign, so no fav line i'm afraid.

may i offer a funny moment instead? >:)

* brOTP: corvo and samuel, no doubt! samuel is the most (if not only) trustworthy man in all of dunwall, and his entire vibe as the man who's always there, waiting for you at the end of the mission, no matter what, is just very comforting.

kinda wish we saw more of him in the sequel...

* OTP: him and jessamine, naturally! we basically see nothing of them together but i bet they made an great couple.

* nOTP: eh, none?

* random headcanon: he keeps at least a dozen rats as pets and you cannot convince me otherwise.

* favorite picture: i love this piece of fanart

[jesuistrestriste]

art is the MESSIEST kisser ever like if u make out his spit is literally everywhere. like he'll kiss u on the mouth then keep on kissing ur neck but w the wettest kisses ever. and i JUST KNOW he def drools. like when u give him head and his head is resting against a pillow, he's so lost in it that he can't even think. like the only thing he can do anymore is whimper and moan like a little bitch. and when u look at him u see him drooling all over the pillow😭

art donaldson has a messy mouth. he drools when it feels too good, he kisses with almost too much tongue when he's desperate, and his warm, eager lips are always on your skin whenever he gets a chance to touch you properly.

he practically salivates like a thirsty puppy on a hot day. it pools under his tongue whenever he catches a glimpse of the more intimate areas of your soft skin; the nape of your neck, your stomach, your inner thighs. and he has to try desperately to swallow it down when you two are in public and he can't get his lips on you.

the first time you and art made out, it was very sloppy. you thought this mightve been a result of minor inexperience on his part, or nervousness, or excitement, so you let it happen. you let him moan into your open mouth and grab at your shirt while he slid his pink tongue over yours. you let his sticky saliva mix with yours as your mouths mashed together. you let him kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until he came in his pants.

the whole ordeal lasted about 7 minutes.

after that, you had assumed that—in time—he'd get more reserved with his mouth as you two continued to be intimate.

but this didn't happen.

if anything, he only got more comfortable with you, and thus only became more orally-fixated and messy with his mouth.

he liked to suck on your fingers during sex.

he liked to slather your arousal with his spit when he went down on you.

he liked to kiss you wetly all over your body before bed.

he liked yearned for it all.

when you'd give him head, your slick lips bobbing over his tip and swallowing salty dribbles of precome, he'd drool all over whatever was near his mouth. it was just too hard to focus on not drooling when the warmth of your tongue got him close so fast. his eyes would get lidded and his knees would grow weak and his mind would turn to mush the second you started to blow him. sometimes you'd have to hold his hips to keep him steady. he was very predictable.

one thing you two like to do together is have art get on all fours on the bed, knees spread apart with his cock hard and hanging between his thighs. his hands will go up and squeeze onto the pillows as he lowers his head and lets you jerk him off.

it’s kinda demeaning, in a way; being milked like a cow.

but you like doing it to him, and he likes whatever you like, so he loves this.

when your hand starts to stroke his cock, strings of pre leaking from his slit, his arms will usually start to shake. it'll start at his shoulders, and then go down to his elbows, and then end when his wrists can't hold him up anymore. he'll let himself collapse down onto the cushions without more than a whine of protest and a renewed tint of pink across the bridge of his nose. his head will lay on one side of his face, his lips parted to let out whimpers and whines as his hips jolt, and then it’ll start.

he’ll drool.

all over.

down the side of his face, over his bottom lip, down his chin. it all happens depending on how his head is positioned. but he always, always, always slobbers on the pillow a little.

just as his eyes start to roll back, and his pelvis starts to shallowly move to thrust his cock into your moving grasp, his sweet and sticky saliva will dribble down his face someway and soak into the pillowcase.

he can't help it.

because, again, you make it hard to pay attention to anything other than how good you make his dick feel. it throbs in your hand.

when you catch a glimpse of his drooling, you usually smile and speed up your touch.

"Art, baby-" you'll coo to him, "drooling."

and he'll know right away what you mean.

"Anghh— feel s'good, s'good— 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he'll inevitably slur.

he'll try to wipe it with the back of his hand, but he's usually shaking too much for that to do much of anything. it more just smears the transparent fluid across his flushed face.

slurp. wipe. whimper.

a few more strokes of your hand, and a thumb pressed right under his cockhead, is all he needs to let go after that point.

his eyes will roll back as he cries out and bucks into your fist, shooting and coating the bedding underneath with his load. he'll tremble and whine until his hands grasping at the sheets below have the instinct to fly between his legs and stop the overstimulation. you generally let up soon after he makes that known.

after you clean him up and ease him into bed, he'll make sure to kiss you goodnight. and it's messy and needy and a little bit too much, but you let him do it anyways. he's eager to please, and he's eager to show you how much he appreciates the way you take care of him. he’s just eager.

maybe one day you'll get sick of how much tongue he uses when he kisses, but you doubt it. it’s just so perfectly him.

[shepscapades]

Xisuma, why in the world were trying to fix your helmet with TAPE?? I thought the superglue idea was unhinged but THIS IS A NEW LEVEL

(I know that it's probably not holding itself ONLY on tape, but the image in my head is too funny)

What's next? You tell me he attached Doc's new arm to his body with tape and glue too??

THIS RESPONSE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE COMICAL but I let it get away from me;;

[lokorum]

[aliferous-ly]

special shout-out to everyone making gifs for the hermit charity event you are my absolute favorite people and the lifeblood of hermitblr <3

[honnelander]

How did Sanji and reader meet the first time? What did they think of each other at first impression 👀?

hmm interesting question! i feel like it would go a little something like this (in my main "mutual pining" series):

You had originally joined the crew back in the beginning with Luffy, Nami, and Zoro when they were going up against Buggy. Since helping them slice that clown pirate down to size, you were a straw hat.

You never particularly had a dream of your own or knew where you wanted to be, but once you met Luffy and his endless optimism and kindness?? You knew it then: you had found your people.

So when did you meet Sanji? At the same time as everyone else, at the Baratie.

After Nami slipped the host some berry to get your crew a table, you all made your way down to the main dining area. Watching Zoro struggle to slide into the booth because of his swords was practically the funniest thing you've ever seen so you couldn't help the laughter that came out of you and in turn, that made the rest of the straw-hats all join you in poking fun at Zoro and laugh your asses off (much to Zoro's chagrin).

"Fuck you guys," Zoro muttered as he gave each member of the crew their own personal death glare.

When the swordsman locked eyes with you for your own personal Zoro Death Glare, you couldn't help but laugh louder.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, everyone's favorite blonde-haired chef was busy making the infamous bluefin tuna special that led to him getting kicked out to wait tables that particular night.

As Sanji put the final touches on his off-the-menu special, wiped the edges of the plate clean, and confidently strode to the front of the line, all while bantering with Patty, he felt on top of the world.

Until Zeff crapped all over his dish and kicked him off the line.

"Fucking old man," Sanji snarled under his breath as he pushed the kitchen doors to the dining room a little more harsh than necessary.

As he walked into the dining room, slinging his suit blazer over his shoulders, he was fuming...until he heard a loud chorus of laughter come from his right. He looked up in curiosity as he buttoned his blazer in the little alcove next to the kitchen and scanned the dining room. Baratie was a more upscale, fine dining experience (especially for pirates), so for a table of guests to laugh as loud as he was hearing was certainly new to the cook. Whoever they were, they definitely must not be from around here.

His blue eyes immediately went to the table nearest to him, table eight, where he had his eyes set on the pretty blonde woman earlier in the night in hopes that she was the one laughing loudly but, no she wasn't. When he took the plate of pastries and took a few steps into the dining room, he heard the laughter towards his right and immediately looked that way with a cool gaze.

And the sight he was met with nearly took his breath away. At table ten, he saw the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen: you. There you were, sitting there at the table, laughing your ass off at the green-haired guy next to you, laughing so hard you were hitting the table with your fist, not a care in the world. It looked like everyone else at your table was laughing along with you, all except for mosshead (a stick in the mud, Sanji thought with a scoff).

Only one thought occupied his mind now, not Zeff, not the bluefin special, not being kicked out of the kitchen, just: you. You and your infectious laugh.

Everything after that happened in a blur. The two pirates at table eight both stood up enraged, yelling insults back and forth along with threats to kill each other, ripping Sanji's attention away from you and pissing him off all over again.

Could anything go right today?

Once he kicked those two pirates unconscious, he then smoothed out his suit jacket, let out a small exhale of satisfaction, and picked up the plate of pastries again. As he strode over to your table, he put on his most charming smile and placed the pastry plate right down on your table like nothing had just happened.

And to be fair? Pirates fighting did happen all the time, that was just another typical Tuesday night at the Baratie.

But meeting you? That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he'd do anything to hear you laugh and see your gorgeous smile light up that pretty face of yours again.

He stared right at you as he said, "Good evening, and welcome to our shitty little restaurant: the Baratie."

At his tone and choice of words, you couldn't help but look at your extremely attractive waiter in surprise and confusion and let out a surprised laugh. Didn't he work here?

He kept going though but his charming smile only widened at hearing your laugh, his smile reaching his eyes as he said, "My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

And in that moment, without the other person's knowledge, you were smitten with each other.

Taglist: @smolracoon25

[mx-paisley]

ART COMMISSION FOR ASH @teafromthemicrowave I MADE A COUPLE DAYS AGO‼️‼️

In this piece is his John Doe design!! I'll link to one of his drawings of John in case you haven't seen it :333333 (GO HAVE A LOOK AT THEM PSLPSSLSPS) i loveeeeee his long bright yellow hair ok im gonna stop here before i yap too much

[lavendarneverlands]

put 5 songs you listen to, post it, then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers <333

Thank you so much lovely🫶🫶🫶

Oh goodness this is a hard question because I like way too many songs😂 though I am a huge Swiftie & since I’ve on my TOG binge have been listening to a lot of fan playlists so let’s let my history decide🤣 these have been in a heavy rotation:

“Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” by Taylor Swift

“Red Wine Supernova” by Chappell Roan

“Please Please Please” by Sabrina Carpenter

“Blonde” by Maisie Peters

“Can’t Catch Me Now” by Olivia Rodrigo

@impossibelle @iwantavaldezinator @idfendyr @shadowhunters77 @archerons-elain @cheap-spirits @maevecrom @endlessdaydream @somethingsomewhereanywhere @korepio

p.s. as always, no pressure tags :-) 💕

(Heads up for some tags: this is my main account, the side-blog ur probably used to seeing (as I’m more active) is @acourtofquestions I have a terrible habit of mixing up pages/conversations; so if ur going “who tagged me?” it’s just me lol)

[httyd-art-requests]

May I request a nonbinary colored Terrible Terror? Love those little guys!

I love that the first pride request is also one of my own flags <3 Shaking your hand

Dragon #87 - Non-Binary Terrible Terror

[robo-milky]

Rook

Oh nooooo~ What’s this? My legs are suddenly giving out after 1 second of running?! Pwease Master Mr. Hunt, go easy on this poor, delicate, helpless cat maid— won’t you? How can I possibly have the energy to indulge you in a hunt after a long day’s worth of chores?! 🥺🥺

[fluffypichu876]

Mutual, congratulate me - I've finally freakin read that Gaming Ask List you reblogged... uhhhhh... 6th jan. ANYWAY

Gaming ask game!

I'm gonna send a few of these together, feel free to answer as many or as few as you wish to)

3. Favourite childhood game?

7. Most disappointing game you’ve played?

8. The game with the best atmosphere/scenery?

12. Most bizarre game you’ve ever played?

14. Do you watch playthroughs online?

15. Favourite animal in a video game?

21. If you had to play one game for the rest of your life, what would it be?

26. How often do you play online? Co-op?

30. On average, how long does it take you in the character creation screen?

43. Favourite sidekick or companion?

54. A sequel you really want?

62. Would you want to work with video games when you are older?

65. Any favourite screenshots of games?

72. Have any guilty pleasure games?

74. Which game has the best lore?

(links don't work with asks so I'll link the original post the ancient way) tumblr dot com /corvoblinks/136954217573/75-gaming-asks

That's a new record, mutual! xDDDDD Old ask games are still valid in my blog, so thank you for sending one!

Oh hoh boy, let's talk video games!

3. Yoshi's Island for the SNES, no doubt! This game might be the first I have ever played! (at least, it's the first game I have played with the most vivid memories) Started it when I was little, picking up a joystick controller to play on the good old ZSNES emulator (that pixelated menu is so nostalgic for me), which my dad set up for me to play.

It was my first contact with a video game and a emulator, and one could say it was all downhill from there xDD

Childhood memories aside, the game itself is pretty good! A very fun platformer with very charming graphics. It's also pretty satisfying to 100%.

8. Ummm, there's some containders for that! As I have said in a post before, Castlevania SOTN has some of my favorite vibes and atmospheres in gaming, and it accomplishes that with a great blend of graphics and sound design.

The first Metal Gear Solid on the PSX also has an amazing atmosphere to it, despite the old-dated low polygon graphics.

Super Castlevania IV on the SNES is of the most atmospheric games on that system, and in true CV fashion, a good part of that is achieved through the soundtrack. The waterfalls and dracula's battle theme are highlights to me:

Dark Souls 1, which I'm currently playing, captures the feel of adventuring into a mysterious, dying world extremely well. The level design is intricate and the areas are interconnected in many ways, each with a unique vibe and story attached. Playing this game blind is highly recommended, as it enhances the experience a lot!

12. I haven't played it, but Top Banana for the Amiga does not look like something that should exist xD It looks cursed, sounds cursed, and it probably plays like a curse too.

As for something that I have played, I gotta say Ecco the Dolphin (and it's sequel). A beloved childhood game of mine, it's strange in a beautiful way, and even as a kid I was mystified by it (I still am).

14. Only snippets and ocasionally a live stream (I don't usually stay for long, though).

15. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME CHOOSE JUST ONE xDDDDD here's a comprehensive list of some of my most memorable favs:

   - Too many Pokemon to count, so here are a few that immediately come to mind: Flygon, Luxray, Reshiram, Elektross, Hydreigon, Skarmory, Breloom.

   - My BOTW horses <333

   - Chocobos

    - The Guardian Ape from Sekiro (awesome boss)

    - D-Dog from MGSV (most precious boi) 21. That's a really hard one xDD Certainly something highly replayable and endlessly fun. Perhaps DMC or Ultrakill?

26. Not very often. I have been engaging with DS1's multiplayer systems, and they're pretty fun!

30. Depends both on the game and my current creativity.

43. My boy D-Dog (mentioned above) is so helpful. So helpful in fact that it makes infiltrating too easy sometimes xD His ability to map out all nearby enemies by their scent makes it super fun to plan strategies ahead, and also you can pet him! :D

54. Sekiro 2 please??? (puppy eyes at Miyazaki)

62. y e s

65. Quite a few! (these are completely out of order, btw)

[jesuistrestriste]

Tying subby Art down to the bed with ribbons, edging him over and over because he was being a fuckin brat. He'd look so damn pretty with tears staining his cheeks, just begging, "Please, mommy, please! I promise ill be good!" Crying harder when you slap him, telling him to shut the fuck up and stop whining (i KNOW this man whimpers)

Art Donaldson had known this was coming. Or, he really should have. He’d gotten mouthy with you. If he had corrected his behavior, he wouldn't currently have his arms tied up to the bed while you straddled his thighs and made his life a living hell. Sigh, if only he had just thought ahead.

His little quips of mumbled attitude throughout the day had made you grow increasingly frustrated. And they were so incessant that you had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. The last straw came when he had said something along the lines of "can you please just fucking touch me? you're being so rigid right now.."

Oh? He wanted to be 'fucking touched'?

He thought you were being 'rigid'?

Fine. You'd give him something to really whine about.

-

And that you did.

Art's body is shaking furiously under your seat over his legs, his hips jolting and squirming over the bed as his head tips back and he sobs. Big, fat, heavy tears pour down the sides of his face, but they did nothing to convince you to relent.

Your hand had been furiously stroking his aching cock for the past hour and a half. It was brutal. The stiffened, throbbing flesh had gushed more spurts of precome than you could ever count or keep track of, and it was now coated in a slimy film of his own filth mixed with the water-based lube you poured over him every fifteen minutes to keep him slick.

You had denied him ten times so far. The tears had come after the fourth denial. It was all downhill from there.

He's now crying so hard that his chest is heaving, but you opt to rub your free hand over his contracting abdomen as you touch his erection instead of letting him come. Because, after all, he'd been a brat all day. He deserves this. Deep down, under the layers of faint resentment, desperation, anguish, and hopelessness, even he knows he deserves this.

His blonde curls are a mess against the pillow, and his wrists are starting to feel raw from the constant tugging on the thick, satin ribbons holding his hands in place and away from his body (and yours). All that truly keeps him from bucking up into your hand the way he so desperately wants to is your firm seat over his trembling legs. You keep him in place. You keep him grounded. Physically, if not mentally and emotionally.

As your hand moves up to quickly fist his sensitive tip in your grasp, a slurry of precome comes dribbling out and Art's body all but snaps in half as his back arches up from the mattress and he lets out a wail of a moan.

"Please!" he cries, his head thrashing against the plush cushion underneath, his hands once again involuntarily yanking at the bondage, "Ugh—! I can't do any more! No more! N-No more!"

You smile.

He hiccups and tries to swallow down another sob before he chokes on it and it comes tumbling out from his lips anyway.

If he really wanted to stop, he'd say the safeword. Even in the most intense depths of his submissive mindscape, he could say the word to you. Through tears, through thrusts, through anything. So you didn't stop. He could take some more.

You shake your head, your hand on his abdomen rubbing in slow, comforting circles as you look over his flushed body. Your hand on his pulsing length twists around his cockhead as your wrist rolls, and your palm glides over his leaking slit in one long, languid stroke. He immediately keens and his eyes roll back as he tugs at the ties again.

"Be quiet, Art," you say, your hand circling his tip before it goes back to stroking him fully up and down, "you're fine. You were a bad boy today, so do you really think I'm gonna let you off so easy? Be still."

He starts to shake his head as he whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, before he nods reluctantly and tries to steady his twitching and shuddering.

He wants to grab your thighs, your forearms, or, hell, even the sheets. He'd grab whatever was available at this point if he could, but he can't. So he settles for wrapping his hands around the length of ribbon that connects each knot around his wrist to the appropriate spot near the headboard.

He'd torn his hands up on multiple occasions from playing tennis. The stinging callouses that bled when he carried on without bandaging were more tolerable than this. By far. He'd take a handful of those over any more of this agonizing torture. And he'd say this to you if he could speak instead of bawl. Maybe then you'd believe how badly he needs to finish.

He manages to pull himself together just enough to lift his head up and look to you as he miraculously slurs out some words through his tears. Two fresh ones drip down his pink cheeks as he attempts to barter with you.

"Please— Oh, please—!" he whined, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel hot all over, "I promise I'll be good now! I swear-!"

You frown and stroke him faster, before your hand over his stomach lifts up and you lean in to swiftly slap him across the the face. It was hard enough to make a sound, but certainly not hard enough to do any actual damage to his pretty cheek.

Just hard enough to hurt and make a point.

His head snaps to the side with the force of the hit, a red tint beginning to creep over his delicate skin, and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow again. A loud, painful whimper erupts from his chest as new waves of tears fall.

Impact-play is something he enjoys, especially during times like this, but he makes that hard to believe when he only goes and cries harder in response.

"You seriously need to learn when to shut your mouth," you snap, "no more whining or I'll just leave you here like this for the rest of the night."

"Nooo," he sobs in defeat. Your words burn him, but they burn so good. His orgasm is creeping in quickly again, but he knows you'll stop it before he gets there.

If you pay attention, it's easy to observe that Art has tells for when he's about to release. He goes from loud moans to stifled, shaky gasps that increase in pace and frequency. He goes from harsh jolts and convulsions to being stiff as a board. His body's sensitivity lets him be an open book. He's an easy read, that's all. And oh boy, can you read him well.

His bodily reactions and habits—at the very least—make your job easier. If he was less sensitive and less reactive, you would have a much harder time edging him properly. That's for sure.

Eventually, after two more denials, you decide to let him finally finish. He almost doesn't believe it when you keep stroking him after he's already stiffened up and gone quiet. His brows are all pinched up and his eyes are squeezed shut as the ribbon digs into his flesh. His hips can't really buck into your touch with you still sitting over him, but he tries anyway while he tenses up all over. His lips part in a silent, anticipatory moan.

Your hand gives him four solid pumps after his body warns you of the rapidly building pleasure, and then Art is cumming with a sharp cry.

His entire form shudders as his heels dig into the bed, and he nearly bucks you off of him like a startled horse from the force and intensity of his orgasm. Your eyes stay fixed to his sensitive parts in your grasp as his balls empty completely over your hand and his lower abdomen in thick, sticky ropes.

It's a heavy load. It's so much that it almost looks like someone spilled a bunch of translucent, sugary icing all over his body and between your fingers. it's so much that it almost seems inhuman. It just goes on and on and on. And he just moans and moans and moans.

"Yess-ss—! Ohh—! yesyesyesyes—!"

"Ahh! AH! Mmngh—!"

He makes the prettiest sounds.

You pump him faster.

You milk him until he gets oversensitive and starts to whine, squirming and panting and gasping for air, and then you finally (finally) let him go.

He collapses down instantly, twitching with the aftershocks, but laying completely spent like a puppet with cut strings. He's beautiful.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," is all he can slur out as his eyes remain unfocused and lidded.

"You're welcome," you say.

your voice is tender and helps to bring him down. In a moment or two, you'll untie his wrists and press a kiss to each. You'll bring him a glass of water and grab a towel to clean him up after you wash your hands. You'll hold him and cuddle him and stroke his sore muscles as he buries his face in your neck. You'll tell him you love him, and how good he did until he can fall asleep.

You wear him out like a dog sometimes, but if you asked him to bark.. who's to say he wouldn't?

All that Art knows as he drifts off is one truth:

He's never going to be bratty ever again.

[sergle]

go crazy go stupid!!! we're at 3/8k waHOO

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

DO YOU THINK TIM IN THE TIMOTHY “TRASH” DRAKE AU MADE A GRAVE FOR THE YOUNG TIM HE REPLACED?!?!

I’m literally so sorry that I’m bothering you but I just thought of the batfam finding younger tim’s grave that Timothy made and thinking that that was why he went from a “good kid” to the horrible person he is now. Cuz he was replaced with an imposter

Pls feel free to ignore me

Bold of you to assume I would ever consider ignoring you (I swear ily <33 you are the furthest thing from bothersome I adore seeing notifs from you!!)

To start- no he wouldn't have a Grave, BUT not for like the "he didn't think of that/didn't care" Theres a long of secret shenanigans going on behind scenes but ill go ahead and clarify.

What happened was when Red Robin died and magic voodoo whatever (that i'm keeping secret for now ;)) and what I call a "Time slip" When the Time slip occured- he did not change dimensions, switch conciousness, or even "break the timestream" He is tiny Tim- Tim maintained his memories from his Red Robin life- BUT the moment he went back in time and changed something (as minimal as what he ate for breakfast) that time ceased to exist.

To explain it let's use a writing metaphor. Tims original time was an entire book of its own.

But then the "author" changed a major event, suddenly everything that happened past that event was no longer considered canon. Yes it happened, but its no longer reality. It is a whole seperate draft from the now "published work"

The draft still exists- but it cannot and will not ever be published exactly the same as it once was. It is forever different. Sure some things are salvaged and remain, but others have been edited out by sheer happenstance or on purpose (aka Tim intervention)

SO instead of Tim replacing a younger version of him, its Tim who suddenly woke up and the past 12 years of his life had ceased to exist entierly and were now as real as a pretty vivid dream.

Equally horrifying yes- but no Tiny Tims were replaced/harmed in timeline shenanigans!!

(though funnily enough there will be some batfam shenanigans that might ring fairly similar to that scenerio)

[bloobydabloob]

Your art is genuinely one of the most inspiring I’ve seen in ages. Immediately upon discovering your blog, I was mesmerized by your creativity bleeding into and staining each piece you’ve posted. Don’t know a lick of Homestuck, but it’s unnecessary to when your art tells me all I need to know without saying a single word. I can grasp why fans of the comic hold it so dear when you paint such a beautiful image of it. (figuratively, not referring to your actual paintings, LOL! Does this count as a pun?)

Sorry, this is just an unrelated doodle because I don’t have any relevant images to add.

I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to tell me this, thank you. I know it is just like a little act of kindness to you but nice messages mean a lot to me and I wish I could properly project how glad I am to have kind people supporting my art in *any* amount. I’m someone who gets very easily stressed out running accounts so talking to people is what makes it worth the hassle for me. I’m glad you like my art and that it inspires you and anyone else reading this who may feel similarly, I hope I don’t quit art and that I keep improving.

I also do very much recommend giving Homestuck a read if you’ve got the time. The fanbase is unfortunately something I don’t have much of a positive view on but even if it is just some internet comic, reading it growing up is definitely something I wouldn’t take ever back. It has some of the best character / world building of anything I’ve read thus far and it has always just stuck with me. I’ve never had a homestuck friend that moved on from it, which is something I rarely find. I think it appeals to everyone in a different way because of the writing and how vast it is / how many bases it covers. I’m sure that if you ever read it you would find your own connections within the comic. I know though that my drawings are less connected with the atmosphere of the comic itself and infinitely more attuned to my own interpretations and feelings towards the characters, but I also think there is already enough more fitting homestuck art for me to just draw whatever.

Anyways here is my cool new print I got for my wall from @/ReptileEnclosed’s InPrnt, and here are just some of the nice things people have said to me that stick in my mind. Every time someone says something I appreciate I screenshot it and add it to a folder called “Nice Words”.

[elitadream]

Basically the whole Mushroom Kingdom

Knowing how Mario and Peach “secretly” feel about each other must be exhausting😆

THIS. ☝️😭

Especially for Luigi, omg. >< I mean sure: Toadsworth, Daisy, Toadette and all the Kingdom's citizens would have a hard time keeping their mouths shut when watching Peach demurely clasp her hands together to make a wish - ever the same one, no doubt - and sigh dejectedly to herself in quiet longing.

But they wouldn't know what it's like to deal with a sibling who's literally lovesick. To enter a room and find their brother hunched over and grimacing in obvious distress, his eyes lost and imploring as he would turn and say: "I love her so much, Lou... I- it hurts," with pained and hopeless surrender. To listen to his enamored ramblings for hours on end, yet only have vague and constrained support to offer. To see him hurting so badly on some days, and somehow still having to refrain from grabbing him by the shoulders and yelling "She LOVES you, ebete!!" to his bewildered face. Oh, to just end that needless suffering... It would be so easy. But he can't. When all would be pleasant and bright, he wouldn't mind, and would even take some enjoyment from what he secretly knows... But there would also be times - disheartened and crestfallen - when that silent vow would be very hard for Luigi to keep. 🥺😣