Scrooge And Donald’s Uncle/nephew Relationship Fascinates Me :’D

Eating up these designs

idk i just accidentally got the idea to make a lamb for other crowns besides scarlet xд

cw eldritch cat/ lots of eyes/blood (?

sorry for the long post btw

I added this one just because lol

I really thought i could finish these in 2 week when i barely have free time lmao

spanish ver. of the last drawing and references⬇⬇⬇

references ⬇⬇⬇

Fantasy Della fantasy Della fantasy Della

rip della duck you would have loved skyrim

Started Ducktales a few weeks ago and promptly finished it because I love it so much 😭🙏🏼

i think i got attatched to the idea of ingo acting like a guardian for akari and rei. the two of them look so alike and i like to imagine that they act like siblings, so ingo seeing them gets some serious deja vu from his own forgotten life and basically adopts them right there.

An Old Face

Sorry for the long ass comic, it wasn't intentional I swear-

This scene takes place after the lamb kills the third bishop and unlocks Sin of the Flesh, curiosity gets the better of the Lamb and sure enough, the results are overwhelming. Since then, Crowne just kinda decided to stay in this form whenever he is wandering about as it brings the lamb a bit of comfort.

They know their brother is gone, but they can't help but cling to a false version of him.

I love this so muchhhhh

I posted non fandom origami here earlier, so why not crochet while we’re at it.

Have a dapper penguin.

Yea.

Not to preach anarchy/wanton rebellion, but like Big Bird in that one meme, we riot at dawn.

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

Quite possibly my favorite part of Stanley Parable is when Stanley says “it’s Stanley time” and Stanleys all over the Narrator’s sanity.

That dang skip button pulls at my heartstrings every time. The poor ol’ guy just wants to ramble about manifestos and treatises and whatnot, but in a bid to make other people like him and his game, he lets who he really is be overlooked—trampled in the face of never-ending footsteps moving too fast to be moved by monologues. “Travel to the next dialogue line and cutscene, why don’t you, and cut me out of your life!”…is something the Narrator would probably say, if he had the will to do anything but beg that the button not be pressed again after being skipped over for the last year like an inmate forgotten in solitary confinement. You can skip the rambles, Stanley, but you can’t skip the angst!

It’s just too relatable. There’s probably at least one moral in there. I know I’d like to be listened to and believe there’s at least one person who wants to listen; one person willing to play my games. I know things have rarely gone well whenever I’ve let other people’s superficial opinions of who and what I should be dictate who I am; always left in the dust, rotting away for years.

Anyway, ramble over. Sometimes I wonder if TSP has released its hold on my brain, but then I’m reminded that the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the