#been working on my style a little bit

[bahbahhh]

Post-totk Zelda — why not another chop?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

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[lesliemeyers]

checking the terrance and phillip subreddit while taking part in a time honored high school tradition: making it harder for other people to use the hallway

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

⚰️figure from my dreams

again because it haunts my psyche⚰️

[mostly-natm]

Lore in Those Shirts… >>>

[okavara]

The smolryptid image that inspired some of dante's doodles btw (I wanted to light up dante's day somehow by going: Look!! look I'm showing him your stream)

Thought you tumblr people might appreciate him too :}

[iizuumi]

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want

[good-beans]

Attention milgramblrgram prisoners!! *attaches you to my keychain* *attaches you to my keychain* *attaches you

Not that I need atonement for anything, but I've been doing a lot of angst for milgramblrgram -- I wanted to offer something sweet 🤲

@amugoffandoms @rainbowghostcat @lostxmelody @gunsli-01 @justzosiahere

@waivyjellyfish @luce-speaks @fayesdiary @purgemarchlockdown @kyanako5972

[jils-things]

♡ jaide, it's me! ♡

finally did that meme that was going around awhile back <3 i had to draw all of his cool costumes at some point and this was the perfect theme to do this hehehehe <3

source of their outfits + original image under the cut c:

credits to @/cafekitsune for dividers

[mossy-paws]

Art dump (PHIGHTING)

Starting strong with this. Thing that a friend requested I saw, do I have regrets? No. Will it forever haunt me because apparently she has a shrine that she will not tell me about? Yes (ROSA I SWEAR TO GOD PLEAAAAaaaaSE WHAT IS THE SHRINE)

ANNND these things! These were style experience at and I honestly had a lot of fun with them LMAO, I was wanting to play with a more anime/manga-esc art style and it was pretty much so win :3

There’s also sword, this may or may not be a draft for mermaid au sword idk just maybe

(It was for a Twitter thing by the way! Just a small simple doodle I did for fun)

[vaguely-concerned]

I don't know what I love more, the fact that as rook you can make a statement in NO uncertain terms that you are NOT responsible one way or the other for the theological implications of the shit you're discovering in the 'regrets of the dread wolf' memories. not my jurisdiction. quite simply none of my business. not my chantry circus not my chantry monkeys. irrelevant to the matter at hand here we'll kill that god if we get to him he can get in line. or if the best thing about it is seeing the lone little 'lucanis approves' that pops up right after choosing it. corvid with a knife about to commit deicide keeping it real and sensibly, pragmatically, wilfully agnostic with me here in this magical lighthouse today

[starry-sophrosyne]

... @toadettely @sopping-wet-cat-wizard y'know, april fools is over, BUT...

"No, what am I saying- That's too mean, I can't do that-" "Fufufu~ But I can~"  (｀▽ ´) // "YOU-" (/｀ᗣ ´ )/

(also for reference bc GUESS WHO CAN PEN- XD /hj /lh /silly):

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(TW: blood/gore, death, car crash incident, graphic imagery)

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S&S: There is a world where Brent never meets Eevee. There is a world where he wakes up one morning, yawning as he rubs his eyes. He'd been somewhat exhausted by his gaming session with "Sofist" last night, not that it was unenjoyable. He gets ready for the day as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. It's all regular, for now, that is. Walking out of his apartment, he raises an eyebrow at the suspicious amount of cars stuck on the local road. Oh well, a crash of some kind? He shrugs and continues walking down the road. Ducking under some construction, he carefully avoids all the prying eyes and workers, taking his shortcut to the cafe. What he sees when he turns the corner, however? Well..

It's graphical, distraught to say the least. He can see the limb of somebody, splayed across the road in a pool of blood. He winces. Damn? They'd been sloppy setting up the perimeter apparently, blocking it from normal eye-witness view, but not from here. Either way, he couldn't make out too much between the ambulance and the police cars stationed in the intersection.

As for the authorities, he can make out them questioning certain people and speaking into their walkie talkies. Their faces are far away but filled with concern as they discuss with each other. Meanwhile, the paramedics tending to the body on the ground, and.. For some reason, he pauses. It's not in any of his good interests to watch this, to get involved with some random traffic incident of an unfortunate civilian, and yet? Something tugs at him, opposing his normal desire to stay out of conflict and general indifference/apathy. He doesn't know why, why this moment specifically?, but it doesn't.. feel.. weird. It's weirdly urging, instead bringing him to stop in his tracks. As he choicely watches the paramedics ready the body bag, he catches a glimpse of the poor man who had faced the consequences.

His hair was curly, coifs of coffee brown tinged with blood. His facial hair was the same color, and his gaze relaxed. His eyes were partially closed in a stereotypical thought of sleeping, with a glint from the sun revealing his hazed over green eyes, devoid of any brightness. What catches Brent's eye immediately, however, is his bright purple coat. Most of it is soaked with crimson gore, now a dark maroon, but even still. It's such a stand out, he can't help but wonder how the man even got hit in the first place.

After a few more seconds, the guided feeling seems to go away, and he turns his head away from the scene. (Unbeknownst to him, he'd been watching for, comparatively, far longer than a few seconds.) Best to move on, for whatever reason he felt compelled to watch EMTs deal with the body, almost as if he was making sure they would properly take care of him. It was weird, but whatever. He didn't have enough time to stay around and see him get sent off, realizing he was late for his shift. Despite his sudden spike of empathy, it was just another day, just with an unfortunate incident. He prayed for the man though, as he finally set foot onto regular sidewalk. May his soul, and whoever he is, rest in peace, for meeting such an untimely end.

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Walking into the cafe, the door closed behind him with the bell's signature jingle. Vern's head shot up, his face twisted with a hint of concern as he rushed over to Brent, who'd barely placed his bag on the desk before Vern grabbed his shoulders, gripping them firmly and causing Brent to jolt a bit out of surprise.

"Brent! Oh my god, you scared me-" "?" "-I saw the crash nearby, and you- came in a few minutes later than you normally do, and- oh god I'd just thought the worst!" Vern could hardly control himself from his ramble, spilling out his emotions, but he paused when he noticed the rather amused look on Brent's face. Brent only chuckled at him, despite the severity of the situation/his anxiety. Vern gave him a dirty look, but let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance relief, glad to know his friend was okay.

As Vern let go of his shoulders, Brent starting unpacking stuff from his bag. Placing his log sheet and charger down in the little table within the break room, Vern asked:

"Why were you late anyways? You normally show up before I even get here. Did something.. actually happen while you were getting here?" He added tentatively.

"..." He paused, his hands tightening around his laptop, contemplating if it was worth it to tell Vern. About the man he'd seen, eyes hazed over in death, body dull and cold, hair stiff with dried blood. It was something in it of its own right, something that he wished he hadn't seen. But at the same time, the death of this random civilian weighed heavier than it should've in his heart. He didn't know why, but still, maybe it was the sight of his eyes; ones that pierced his soul, staring at him even after passing. They were so.. cold. Almost as if they were blaming, in hatred. His blood chilled, thinking about it all, and a heaviness set in the room. Oh. Man, he'd never felt this way before. He'd just witnessed death, hadn't he? How was he acting like this was all okay?

He held in a sigh, settling for a tight exhale as he shook his head, not looking up from his stuff. No, it was best not to trouble his more emotionally affected friend with his.. issues. Were he to tell Vern, he'd likely become more aggrieved than him. Even still, looking up and noticing Vern's still apprehensive gaze, he feigned a small smile; keeping it up even as he looked back down in the black expanses of his duffel bag, now empty. He couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "I'm serious dude, nothing happened. Don't worry about it."

"... Alright, if you say so." The air was thick with tension, the silence being left unbroken. Vern's footsteps were soft as they padded against the tiled floor, the door slowly creaking closed behind him. One last glance behind his shoulder, before he fully shut the door, putting on a smile to greet the guests that had entered the cafe. Meanwhile, the room had become dimmed sightly with the waning sunlight as the light from the cafe dissipated. Brent stared down once more, as if questioning the true morality behind what he'd seen. With a sigh, his shoulder slumped. Sitting down onto the rickety foldable chair, he put his head in his arms, on top of the table. He wasn't ready to go out. Not just yet. Not while the green eyes of someone haunted him. He couldn't just go and pretend everything was okay, even he had no damn idea why the death of some random stranger had messed him up so badly.

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Vern found him struggling to think of positive messages to write atop his orders for the rest of the afternoon. Brent did not come out of the break room for a long time, and even once he did, he was silent as he worked. Nick didn't come in for coffee that day.

[moonviewer]

"I will keep going forward, no matter how hopeless it might seem."

(please do not repost my art and just leave a link to it if you'd like to share instead, thank you!)

[cold-red-venom]

Futtershy and Discord :DDDD

Did NOT mean to go this hard, this was just gonna be a low effort sketch. Discord's a little awkward, but it's my first time drawing him, but I think now that I have it'll be easier next time, I wasn't feeling this halfway through but I actually really like how it turned out :)))

[kakusu-shipping]

Me? Writing my Balan Wonderworld: Maestro of Mystery, Theatre of Wonders Self Insert chapter? Yeah why not. The tag's already full of OCs and S/Is, might as well add mine into the ring.

Bookworm

Balan Wonderworld Self Insert fic based on the novelization

Streetbeat ran his hand along the brick walls of the town around the Checkered King's castle as they walked, staring at his shoes as he pictured the girl, Fighter, and the man in the hat in his mind.

Who were they? What did they want? Why was he the only one who didn't see anything else...?

The texture along Streetbeat's fingers pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to the wall to see no longer medieval stone work, but books lined perfectly on a shelf that seemed to stretch up into forever.

The floor beneath his feet was no longer black and white tiles, but deep, chocolate brown wood. The narrow alley replaced with tall, cherry red wood stained bookshelves nearly over flowing with thickly bound novels.

Clocktower Kid and Pensive Pierrot turned a corner, with Streetbeat close on their tail, and came out to a skylighted library lobby. Plush seats, couches, pillows, and reading nooks filled every space that wasn't occupied by tables with piles upon piles of books. Transparent residents sat scattered around the area. There was a hush of chatter that never grew loud enough to make out words, like a soft static.

Clocktower kid made her way easily though the maze of plush chairs and towering book stacks to the front desk, which was just as over run by books as every other flat surface. She knocked politely on the large oak desk and called out into the room behind

"Helloooo? Bookworm, are you in?"

From around the corner came a puff of white hair, followed by the face of a young man. His bright red eyes looked almost unnaturally large behind a pair of oversized golden glasses.

"Ooooh! Clocktower kid! Pensive! Hello hello! One moment please!" The man called Bookworm called excitedly before disappearing back into the room behind the desk.

Streetbeat navigated the maze of chairs with the help of Pensive Pierrot and found himself glancing around the building he'd found himself in.

The walls were tall, and while in the stacks the bookshelves seemed to stretch indefinitely, from where he stood now they seemed completely reasonably sized, though he couldn't see the end of alleyways they made. On the ceiling was a large pane of glass in the shape of a tear drop, like the strange crystals that appeared in everyone's stage. Evening sunlight poured in and made the library almost seem to glow with warmth.

Finally, Bookworm stepped out of the backroom, placing a pile of books taller than himself on his desk, "Sorry for the wait." He spoke, pushing the books off to one side, "Shelving."

Bookworm's eyes fell on Streetbeat and lit up in realization.

"Oh! You're Streetbeat! It's so nice to finally meet you." He smiled and reached out a hand, Streetbeat assumed for a handshake and met him half way

"Yeah, likewise-" He began, only to stare in wonder as Bookworm placed a novel in his out stretched hand.

The book was wine red with golden lettering, the word Waltz was written in cursive at the top. There was no author or any sort of cover photo, just the title.

"what's...?" Streetbeat was so caught off guard he couldn't form a full question, he just looked quizzically up at Bookworm, who beamed back at him, seemingly proud of himself.

"Ah, that's how Bookworm welcomes people, he liked to recommend us all novels in his collection. I still haven't finished the one he loaned me..." Pensive explained, scratching the back of his head with a shy smile.

"I finished mine!" Clockwork Kid bragged, "And it was sooooo good I started reading it AGAIN!"

"Oooh, I'm so glad you liked it~" Bookworm cooed, resting his elbows on the desk, leaning closer to Clocktower Kid, "You know when the Prince stole poor Mary away-"

"Aaaaah I read all night to get past that part! I couldn't imagine Mary with anyone other than Atticus!!" Clocktower Kid squealed, pacing a bit in place.

Bookworm nodded, "They get there in the end of course but that carriage accident, oh and the poor bunny, it's just all too stressful!" The short man sighed, then sat up straight and clapped his hands, "But enough about that! Are you three here to peruse the stacks?"

"Actually," Pensive spoke, "we came to talk to you. We think something bad might be happening in Wonderworld."

As Pensive Pierrot explained the visions everyone had been having of the girl and the man in the hat, Streetbeat took a moment again to look around the library.

Every stage so far had been missing something, something obvious to everyone but the stage's inhabitant. He thought it was weird the novel Bookworm had given him didn't have an author on it, but it wasn't unheard of, so he decided to do a little snooping, just to be sure.

Streetbeat picked up a random book from one of the stacks on a nearby low table, it was a deep forest green with the word Nightfall written in bold golden lettering. The one under it was a soft baby pink, the word Daybreak was seemingly stamped on in a deep blue simple font.

The one under than and the one under that followed suit, a single color cover with a one word title and no author.

Streetbeat put all the books back where he'd gotten them and turned back to the group, where Bookworm was now standing with his arms crossed, biting the tip of his thumb.

"I... I have... seen them..." He admitted hesitantly, glancing at the stack he'd pushed to the side before, which seemed now unbalanced and ready to topple at any moment.

"Did you see anything else?" Pensive asked as Streetbeat came to his side again.

Bookworm seemed to hesitate, biting harder at the tip of his thumb as he glanced around the library lobby.

"I saw a monster," Clocktower Kid admitted, putting her hand on the desk in front of Bookworm, "it was scary.. I didn't wanna talk about it either.."

Bookworm released a sigh he'd been holding at Clocktower Kid's confession and placed his hand on hers, holding it. He closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath, the tower of books next to him stopped swaying.

"I saw a building... It was huge, and the doors were open like I was supposed to go in but I... I felt like going in would be my doom... Like I'd be trapped there forever..."

Clocktower Kid held Bookworm's hand tightly in her own, a look of sympathy on her face.

Bookworm took another deep breath, "Who is he? The man in the hat?"

"We don't know," Streetbeat placed his hand on the desk, "But we think something bad's going to happen."

Bookworm looked between the three of them, then squarely at Pensive, "Have you spoken to Lance?"

Pensive winced at the question, glancing first to Streetbeat, then Clocktower kid, before sighing, "Yeah... He warned us to stay out of it..."

Bookworm released Clocktower Kid's hands and stood up straight, "Then that's what I'll do." He turned and picked up half the books from the stack beside him, then walked off into the bookselves.

"Wait!" Streetbeat followed quick on his heels, Pensive hesitating only to follow as Clocktower Kid raced after the two of them.

"Aren't you worried? Somethings happening, these visions, they're not nothing!" Streetbeat argued when he caught up to Bookworm, who shelved books without so much as looking.

"If Lance says it's better to stay out of it, I trust him." Bookworm spoke matter-of-factly, pushing along a large latter on wheels.

"But what if something happens to Wonderworld?"

"Lance will take care of it, he takes care of us."

"But-"

Pensive Pierrot put his hand on Streetbeat's shoulder to stop him, he and Clocktower kid both shook their heads.

Streetbeat sighed and nodded, admitting defeat. He looked down at the Waltz book in his hand before setting in on a nearby self.

He followed the two down the seemingly never ending rows of books until they found themselves standing amidst ancient ruins, the stage of a man called Invisible Custodian.